


The Lucky One

by Iselmyr



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Femslash, Background Fpreg, Background Genderswap, Background Harry/Draco, Background Poly, Epilogue What Epilogue, Gen, Genderfluid Teddy Lupin, HP: EWE, Not Canon Compliant, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Not Pottermore Compliant, Sacred Twenty-Eight, Where The Characterization Is Made Up And The Canon Doesn't Matter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iselmyr/pseuds/Iselmyr
Summary: An orphan gets a Hogwarts letter, and discovers a new world. She isn't a Potter, and the war is long over. Self-indulgent fun. Extremely canon noncompliant. OFCs galore.





	1. Prologue: An Owl and a Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: This fic plays extremely fast and loose with canon. A lot of major canon characters' relationships have been changed. A lot of characters have had their genders changed. (The entire Weasley clan is female now. And the Prewetts. Just for starters.) Some people who died in canon are still alive. I refuse to accept that Teddy's first name is canonically Edward, so they're Theodorea. This is most definitely EWE (epilogue, what epilogue) and probably also ignoring Pottermore and Cursed Child and everything JK Rowling has ever said outside of the books (and half of what she said in them) unless I find it convenient. Don't read this expecting anything resembling canon compliance, is what I'm saying. I'm taking the HP canon as a springboard, and I'm swan diving away from it into what I thought would be fun.

Nashira was nervous as she walked home from the bus stop. She'd been seeing an owl out of the corners of her eyes all day, outside the library where she went to be somewhere that wasn't the orphanage during the long summer days. Owls were silent, and that made her even more nervous - she wouldn't be able to hear it if it went for her.

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to stay at the library this afternoon. The owl was even creepier in the gathering dusk.

When she turned onto the orphanage's long driveway, the owl swooped down in front of her and perched on the edge of the fence. It stared at her, then jerked its head down towards its legs, where there was... paper? She stood there staring at it in bafflement, and it hopped a bit closer and hooted at her, sounding annoyed.

None of the scenarios Nashira had constructed in her head for why an owl might be stalking her had involved _post_. She hesitantly reached her hand out towards the letter, ready to snatch it back if the owl looked like it was going to make a move to savage her, but it just stuck its leg out towards her to make it easier for her to reach the letter. She fumbled hurriedly with the leather thong, then backed away with the letter. The owl hooted again, this time sounding satisfied, and flew away.

She watched it disappear into the trees, then looked down at the letter. Handwritten on it, in looping green ink, was:

 

Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black

Northernmost Bed, East Dormitory

St. Anne's Home For Girls

 

Nashira peered suspiciously at the letter, looked up at the Home, and then headed off to one side, following the inside of the fence along until she reached a streetlight that was blocked from the windows by some trees where she could read in relative privacy.

She pulled her pocketknife surreptitiously out of her training bra and slid it carefully under the wax seal to detach it from the thick paper, then returned the knife to its hiding place before she opened the envelope and removed the contents.

Out of the envelope came a thick sheaf of papers. The edges were rough and the surface was much more textured than she was used to. Something in the back of her mind suggested that this might be the 'parchment' that she'd read about in fantasy novels.

Whether it was paper or parchment, she unfolded the packet and looked at the first page.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall

 

Dear Ms. Black,

We are pleased to inform you that your tuition has been paid in full for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. No response is required, as your admission has already been accepted.

Yours sincerely,

Pomona Sprout

Deputy Headmistress

 

The second page was a list of required equipment and books. Nashira didn't bother looking at it closely - she was too absorbed in the implications of the first page.

School of _witchcraft_? And what on earth kind of name was 'Hogwarts'? Was the school inside the warts on a hog? That sounded disgusting, and unclean. She had so many questions, and no way to ask any of them. She especially wanted to know how her tuition could have already been paid. Was it some kind of scam to kidnap young girls? An orphan would be a good target, she supposed, since she didn’t have parents or siblings to miss her. A stalker would also explain how they know where she slept.

She looked more closely at the other pages, and saw that she was supposed to leave for the school through “Platform 9 3/4” at King’s Cross Station in London. Nashira hadn’t been to a lot of train stations in her life, but she was pretty sure the platforms were labeled with whole numbers.

It wasn’t like she could just up and go to London to catch a train that might not exist, anyway. If they were scammers, how did they expect her to get to where they could grab her and sell in into slavery, or whatever people who kidnapped eleven year old girls did?

And how did they know her full name? It wasn’t even in the school system. Nothing had provisions to deal with four names, so she was down officially as just Nashira Black. Her other two names she only knew from peeking at her birth certificate when she had had to bring it into school once. They were too special for everyday use. She liked to imagine that her parents must have loved her a lot, to pick out that many names all for one girl.

And she’d looked up what her names meant, at the library. Nashira meant “the lucky one” or “bearer of good news”, and it was a star. Yasmin was the Arabic name for jasmine flowers. So they must have thought she was special, to give her a name like that, surely. They must have loved her and died, not just abandoned her.

Jasmine flowers were her favorite, even though she’d only seen them a couple of times. Her parents had named her after them. They were _her_ flowers. She never told anyone else about them being hers. That was her secret to hold close, and know that someone had cared about her once.

She wished she knew Arabic. Three of her names were Arabic, so at least one of her parents must have been. Maybe they would have taught her, and she would have grown up speaking two languages. As it was, all she had was dirty looks and hissed insults from the other kids for the color of her skin. She wished she had a culture to hold as a counterweight against the hatred, instead of a void where her roots were.

She looked at the letter again, then at her watch. If she stayed out here any longer, she’d miss dinner, and the letter wasn’t going to change for her staring at it longer now. She pulled her backpack around over one shoulder and tucked the letter and envelope into the back of one of her spare notebooks, then zipped the backpack up again and headed for the door of the Home.

There was no one in the entrance hall when she walked in, and she made it to her bed without seeing anyone and dropped her backpack on the rickety desk next to it. If no one was in the dorm, they must all already be at dinner, and she was late. She turned and hurried back out towards the cafeteria.

Miss Brenna sighed at her when she tried to sneak in the door, but she looked amused instead of angry. “Did you lose track of time at the library again, Nashira?”

Nashira nodded guiltily. That was _most_ of why she was late, anyway. She should have left earlier. It stayed light so long this time of year that she always thought it was earlier than it was.

Miss Brenna shook her head tolerantly. “You have a watch for a reason, Nashira. Try looking at it. Hurry now and get some food before everyone starts going back for seconds.”

Nashira bobbed her head and trotted off to the counter, snagging a tray and a plate on her way. She got an undersized scoop of macaroni and cheese - there wasn’t much left - and a rather larger scoop of creamed spinach, which was neglected as usual. Mrs. Parker dropped a square of Yorkshire pudding on her plate, and she skipped the rubbery pork chops, grabbed a glass of water and a fork and carefully carried her tray to the nearest unoccupied table, skirting widely around the other girls. They mostly didn’t bother her, after too many weird occurrences of their glasses of milk tipping over into their laps after they tripped her, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She was hungry, she didn't want her food to end up on the floor.

Hm. Maybe luck like that was why they wanted her to go to a witch school? Poppy-Mae in Mrs. Brightman’s class last year had called her a ‘witchy freak’ after Nashira accidentally static shocked her and Poppy-Mae's hair frizzed up for hours when she had shoved Nashira on Picture Day, but she’d never thought about it much.

When she got to the end of a table that was mostly empty, she set her tray down and sat down to eat, thinking hard. Was she a witch? Was being a witch a bad thing? She’d sat through enough sermons from charitable vicars who wanted to save the poor orphans to know ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live’, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be Anglican anyway.

Nashira finished eating and returned her plate and tray to the bins and headed to bed, thinking hard.

  



	2. A Goblin and a Trunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nashira gets some explanations.

Nashira checked again that the letter was still there and hadn’t been a dream, then shouldered her backpack and headed for the front door to go to the library. Miss Brenna made a note that she was leaving and waved her out the door with a smile. It was almost a joke with the staff of the orphanage, how much Nashira Black liked to read. Some of the other kids weren’t allowed to leave unsupervised, because they’d gotten caught with spraypaint or cigarettes or alcohol, but everyone knew Nashira never did anything but read.

She walked down the long driveway of the Home and turned automatically left, then stopped short. There was... something standing in her way. It was humanoid, but even shorter than she was, and it had knobbly green skin and long pointed ears. And very large pointed teeth. Nashira had certainly read enough to identify a goblin on sight, but she had also read enough to know that species names varied and what was right for one group could be offensive to another.

She shook herself mentally and decided to be as polite as humanly possible, in case it was the kind of goblin who ate children and could be convinced not to. She curtsied as best she could with her short pleated uniform skirt, bowing her head as deeply as she could without falling over. “Hello,” she managed. What was a polite thing to say? “Um, good morrow. Is there anything I can do for you?”

She bit her lip, hoping she hadn’t just accidentally offered to do anything by phrasing it wrong. If this was a fairy type goblin she might be stuffed. Don’t eat the fruit, she thought.

The goblin grinned, which revealed even more teeth, and she fought to keep a pleasant smile on her face, praying that it wasn’t about to eat her.

“Polite,” it said. “Good. You got a letter yesterday, Miss Shafiq-Black. I would guess you have questions. I am Lagrak. I can answer them.”

“I do,” Nashira said cautiously. “Is there a price for the answers?”

The goblin laughed outright. “And clever as well! Better and better. The price is that you will remember that the goblins helped you, and you will consider what others tell you about us in light of that. You will remember that we showed you what you needed when others left you floundering. Do you find this a reasonable price?”

She hesitated, but he hadn’t asked her to promise a favor even, had he? Just a consideration. A consideration that she probably would have given anyway. She nodded. “I do, Lagrak, sir.”

He laughed again. “Your courtesy does you proud, but you need not call a goblin by a human title. If you wish to extend me the courtesy of the title, you may call me Account Manager Lagrak. I am in charge of the Shafiq and Black accounts at Gringotts.”

“Accounts? Might I ask what Gringotts is?”

“Gringotts is the bank the wizards use,” he said, still grinning. “We goblins run the bank.”

“My- my parents had accounts there?” she ventured.

Lagrak laughed. “More than that, little heir. Both of your parents were the last heirs of long and rich family lines, and their only heir was you. You are the wealthiest individual in Wizarding Britain.”

It took all she had not to stumble backwards or let her jaw drop in shock. Nashira struggled for words. She lived in an orphanage, she got two pounds a week allowance that she had to hoard for months to afford the books she wanted, and she was rich?

Seemingly enjoying her speechless state, Lagrak added, “Not to mention the properties. You own nearly a dozen estates, entailed by blood wards to pass only to you.”

Nashira pinched herself on the arm, hard. It hurt, and the goblin was still there. Not dreaming. “I own a house? I own several houses? I don’t even have my own bedroom!”

Lagrak kept grinning. “Would you like to be introduced to your vaults, Miss Shafiq-Black?”

“Yes, Account Manager Lagrak,” she said faintly, “I think I might.”

Lagrak extended a hand with long fingers and sharpened claws. “Take my hand, and I will transport us to the bank.”

There’s no point in hesitating now, she told herself. He’s been nothing but polite. You own whole houses. You’ve dreamed of having something from your parents all your life. Take the chance. Leap.

Nashira reached out her hand and set it carefully on Lagrak’s palm. His grin widened impossibly and he closed his fingers around hers, then took hold of a golden chain around his neck and spoke a harsh word she couldn’t make out. Everything went dark and spun around her for a long moment, and then the world returned in a different shape. She was standing in a room with marble walls and a desk made of rich wood and topped in a scaly-looking leather that appeared to have come from something much bigger than a snake or crocodile.

Lagrak released her hand and walked around to the other side of the desk, where he hooked his foot around the stool there and sat down.

There were sheaves of parchment spread out across the desk top, in neat piles. Lagrak picked up the one nearest him and turned it around to extend it across the table towards her. “The account summary for the Black vaults and estates,” he said.

She picked it up and looked at it, scanning down until the saw the number labeled ‘Net Worth’ in large blocky letters. It had nine digits. She sat down in the chair behind her abruptly. After the number, though, was the designation ‘galleons’. “What’s a galleon?” Maybe they were worth far less than pounds, so she wasn’t quite as terrifyingly rich as this looked.

“Galleons are gold coins worth twelve sickles. Sickles are silver coins worth 29 bronze knuts.” He smiled. “But I suspect what you want to know is the conversion to muggle money, no? One galleon is worth five muggle pounds.”

Nashira swallowed hard. She didn’t even bother trying to multiply the number in her head. It was already so impossibly large that it might as well be infinite, five times one way or the other hardly made a difference. To distract herself from wondering whether she was richer than Bill Gates, she turned to the next page of the sheaf. It was a list of properties and estates.

 

12 Grimmauld Place

Ironoak House

Chateau Noir

Bijou

 

Every property had a list of ‘house elves’ after it - from Grimmauld Place only one to Chateau Noir with six. She looked up at Lagrak. “What’s a house elf?”

“The servants of wizards. They sustain themselves on the excess magic of wizards in exchange for their labor cooking and cleaning. Once you have been confirmed as heir, you can call any of them to you at any time.”

“Confirmed as heir?” She asked. “I thought I was already the heir. Didn’t you say everything was entailed to me?”

He nodded. “Yes, but you must accept them, or they will remain no more connected to you than they were yesterday.” Lagrak gestured to two small boxes on the corner of the desk that she hadn’t noticed before. “These contain the Heir and Head rings for the Black and Shafiq families. Now that you are 11, you can take the Heir rings, though the Head rings will not accept you until you reach your majority at 17.” He grinned, seemingly enjoying her constant shock and confusion, and pushed another stack of papers to her. “These are the Shafiq account summaries.”

Another nine digit number, and another list of properties.

 

Hikmah

Villa Shafiq

Nur al-Qamar

Loch Willow

17B Grove Lane

 

Nashira looked up. “Is there anything I need to do to claim the Heir rings?”

Lagrak nodded. “We already know who you are, but your bloodline must be confirmed.” He pulled out an empty roll of parchment and a shining copper knife. “Only requires a drop. If you will give me your hand again, Miss Shafiq-Black?”

Nashira bit her lip, but she extended her hand to him. What was the blank parchment for? Presumably goblins didn’t use DNA tests, so how-?

Her thoughts were cut off by a sharp pain in her finger, and she watched the vivid blood drip down onto the bottom edge of the parchment. It seemed to spread upwards, then curled into the letters of her name. Lines extended upward, then traced out two more names above hers. Her parents’ names. She was transfixed, completely forgetting the pain in her finger. Regulus Arcturus Black and Yasmin Amani Shafiq. She had parents.

The lines didn’t stop there, however, spiraling outward and writing other names around them. Her grandmothers’ names were Walburga and Amani. Her grandfathers were Orion and Jabir.

When the blood-turned-ink had finished tracing out the names for five generations back, birth and death dates faded in between all of the names. But-

“This can’t be right,” she said. “This says I was born in 1978. If that was right I’d be thirty-one! I’m only eleven.”

Lagrak nodded. “We’ve known for a long time that there was something strange with the Shafiq-Black heir. For twenty years no magic could trace you - until the fall of Voldemort, when you appeared on the map again, in a muggle hospital. Your parents must have used old, old magic to lock you safely away from the world until the war was over. So for twenty years of your life, you did not live, and you did not age. They must have known there was a chance that they would not survive the war, or they would not have set you to reappear where you did.”

She looked at her parents’ death dates. Her father had died eight months after her birth, and her mother six months later. She ran her finger over the dates. They were so long ago.

“You are confirmed, now,” Lagrak said. She started. She had almost forgotten why the chart had been made, in the shock of what it revealed. He took her hand again and tapped a ruby on the pommel of the dagger against the cut on her finger, and it closed into a thin scar, pale against her skin.

Lagrak took the two boxes and held them out to her, one in each hand. They were both marked only with a crest of arms and a motto. One said only ‘Toujours Pur’, the other ‘Semper Virent’ above something she couldn't read that looked like Arabic. She reached for the second, because it seemed more friendly. She opened the box and there were two signet rings inside. Both bore the crest pictured on the box, one with a shape like a sideways moon at the top. She looked at Lagrak. “Which one is the Heir ring and which one is the Head ring?”

“The one with the crescent is the Heir ring,” Lagrak replied.

Nashira steeled herself for some kind of catastrophic reaction and picked up the Heir ring. It slid easily onto her finger, seeming much too large and loose, but when it reached the base of her finger it fit perfectly. There was a pricking feeling underneath it - did the ring just stab her too? - and suddenly the crest flooded with color and she was overwhelmed with awareness.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to winnow down the input she was dealing with, and focused on the strongest feeling. When she pushed her mind towards it, she got a picture of a townhouse, with a shell of light seething around it. Seeming to calm down after she acknowledged it, the feeling she got from it subsided to the back of her mind - easily reachable but no longer demanding all of her attention.

She focused on the rest in turn, seeing visions of house after house, some huge and some almost normal sized, one an ordinary-seeming flat. When she finished with the houses there was another feeling, but it was different. It felt warmer and more alive, and like many things at once. She focused on it and got an impression of a crowd of people even shorter than Lagrak, with huge eyes and floppy ears. She supposed they must be house elves - and she realized that she now knew all of their names, and they matched with the lists under the properties on the account summary.

After she had acknowledged the house elf bonds, everything subsided enough that she could pay attention to her own body again. She opened her eyes to see Lagrak looking tolerantly amused, like Miss Brenna when she came in to dinner late. “I’m sorry, Account Manager Lagrak. I was overwhelmed.”

He nodded, looking pleased that she had apologized. “I expected as much. The bonds with the wards and the elves are often... affecting when first accepted, from what we have seen.” He grinned. “Would you like to take the Black Heir ring now?”

Nashira swallowed hard. It would be overwhelming again - but if she put it off, she’d make it worse by dreading it. And she wanted to claim the rights of the daughter of both of her parents. Her mother had worn this ring, surely, and her father must have worn the other. She nodded and reached out to open the other box. Neither of these rings had a crescent like the Shafiq Heir ring, but one had a fleur-de-lis. She looked up at Lagrak. “Is this one with the fleur-de-lis the Black Heir ring?”

He grinned. “It is.”

She picked it up, took a deep breath, and slid it onto her middle finger, one over from the Shafiq ring. Just like the other, it adjusted itself as it slid down until it fit perfectly at the base of her finger, and like the other, it pricked her underneath, and then it flooded with color and the bonds came. She was pleased to find that they were less overwhelming now that she expected them, and she managed to sort through them without squeezing her eyes shut, ending again with the house elf bonds.

“Congratulations, Heir Shafiq-Black.”

Nashira blinked away the afterimages of the wards from her eyes. “What do I do now, Account Manager Lagrak?”

Lagrak laughed. “Well, you could go straight to one of your properties, but I believe you had some questions about a letter.”

Her eyes widened and she yanked her backpack around to pull out the letter. In all the finding out about her properties and parents, she’d forgotten about what started this whole thing. She pulled the letter out and set it on the desk in front of her. “My first question is why does this say my tuition has already been paid?”

Lagrak grinned widely. “The money first. Good. Your parents arranged for your tuition to be paid to the school as soon as you came out of stasis. We took care of the payment eleven years ago.”

She nodded, feeling warm inside again that her parents had made sure to take care of her. “That makes sense. Um, why is it called Hogwarts?”

“Wizards are terrible at naming things.”

She laughed a little and looked down at the letter again, flipping the page over to see the equipment list. “Where do I get all of these things?”

Lagrak gestured to one side. “Outside of this bank is Diagon Alley, the main street of the wizarding district in London. Shops there sell everything you will need.”

She nodded. “All right. Can I go get money out of my vaults to buy it with?” She paused, struck. “Can I convert some of the money into pounds, too?”

Lagrak nodded. “We can convert into any currency, for a small fee. You cannot access the main gold vaults until you come of age, but your parents designated a trust vault for you that should suffice for your needs.” He reached into a desk drawer and produced a small golden key. “This will open your trust vault. The Heir rings will open the heirloom vaults you are allowed access to, and when you get them, the Head rings will open every vault you have a right to.”

Nashira took the key and smiled down at it. It was from her parents, for her. She looked back up at Lagrak. “How do I get to my vaults?”

Lagrak stood and stepped towards the door behind her. “I can take you there, if you will pick up your papers and follow me this way.”

She took the two sheaves of account statements, bundled them together with her Hogwarts letter, and tucked it all into her backpack, then stood and followed after him. They exited the room into a long marble hallway that led to a cavern of more ordinary stone, with what looked like miniature railroad tracks running through it. Lagrak stepped forward and pulled a lever, and a door in the wall opened and two minecarts tethered together came rumbling out to stop in front of them. Lagrak climbed into the one in front, which had a further assortment of levers in it, and gestured at the other. Nashira climbed in and settled herself on the bench in it, wishing she had something to hold onto.

As she finished the thought, a bar emerged from the floor of the cart and raised itself up to sit at the perfect height for her to grip. She took hold of it, feeling much better about riding in this now. “Thank you,” she said to the bar, just in case, and it warmed a little under her hands. The seat under her suddenly seemed more comfortable.

There was a grinding sound from in front of her, as Lagrak pulled the levers into a new arrangement, and then the cart suddenly took off down the tracks, quickly enough that Nashira was very grateful for the bar. It dropped down into a tunnel, then swooped around a corner and through a confusing jumble of other sets of tracks.

“They opened a new vault for you, so it is higher up in the bank,” Lagrak said. “The family vaults are much deeper.” The cart whisked around another corner, then jerked to a stop in front of a door at least twice Nashira’s height. “Here we are, vault 672.” Lagrak stepped out of the cart onto the ledge in front of the vault, and Nashira followed him carefully, feeling a little wobbly after the fast ride here.

Looking more closely at the door, she saw a keyhole in the center. She pulled the golden key out of her pocket and put it in. Before she could turn it, the door seemed to melt away around it, leaving an empty archway. She looked back at Lagrak. “Is that supposed to happen?”

He nodded. “A security measure. The key is magical rather than physical, so the lock cannot be picked.”

She nodded uncertainly and turned back to the vault. Now that she was paying attention to what had been revealed rather than how it had been revealed, she was shocked by the enormous heaps of coins. Lagrak had mentioned gold and silver coins, and the numbers on the account statements were huge, but a trust vault had sounded small. Nashira supposed this probably was small, compared to the numbers in the main vaults.

Once she got over the shock at the enormous amount of money, she noticed that there were other things in the vault as well. Sitting prominently in the front was a trunk covered in leather that looked similar to Lagrak’s desk. On top of it was a bag made of glittering silver chain mail with something purple peeking out from behind the links. She picked up the purse first, and looked inside.

“Wizarding work, but well enough enchanted to suffice,” sniffed Lagrak. “The interior is much larger than the exterior, and if you reach inside thinking of an item within it, your hand will find it.”

Nashira opened the purse and looked inside. She could see purple silk around the opening, but beyond that it faded away into darkness. “Can I put money in this?”

“You can. The weight of items within it will also not affect you.”

Nashira nodded and slung the strap over her shoulder, then knelt to look at the trunk. There were four locks on the front, the keyholes all looking different levels of worn. A tarnished silver key was sticking out of the first keyhole. She looked back at Lagrak. “Is this a really secure trunk? Where are all the other keys?”

Lagrak grinned. “There is only one key. It opens all four of the locks, and each one opens a different compartment inside the trunk.”

Nashira looked back at the keyholes, and this time she noticed a tarnished silver plate beneath them. She picked up the hem of her skirt and scrubbed at it, clearing it enough to make out the letters engraved into it: ‘Yasmin Amani Shafiq’. “This was my mother’s trunk,” she whispered. “She left me her trunk.” Reverently, she reached out and turned the key in the first lock. It clicked, and the lid opened a fraction. She lifted it and looked inside. The first compartment was the same size as the inside of the trunk, and there was nothing in it except a letter at the bottom. She reached in and carefully lifted it out.

Written on the outside, in slightly faded black ink, was her name. Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black.

She turned it over, and it was sealed with two colors of wax, black and purple mixing together slightly in the center, each one stamped with a crest just like the ones on her rings. With shaking fingers, she pulled her pocketknife out of her training bra and tried to slide it under the wax like she had with her Hogwarts letter. The wax on this letter was old and hard, however, and it broke. Blinking hard against tears, Nashira flicked the knife closed and dropped it into the purse without looking.

She opened the envelope and slid out the contents. There were two letters, both shorter than she might have wanted, but longer than she’d ever dreamed she might get to see. She picked up the first nervously and read.

 

My darling Nashira,

If you are reading this, your father and I have not survived to see you off to Hogwarts ourselves, but the war is long over. I’m sorry we couldn’t be there, my love, and I’m sorry that you grew up an orphan in the muggle world. Regulus and I knew we couldn’t trust either side of the war to treat you right if we weren’t there, and we had no guarantee that anyone we could trust would survive if we did not, so we left you to be a foundling. I wish I could have raised you. I wish I could have given you this trunk myself, told you stories about things I hid inside and the time your father stole the key so he could fill it with flowers for my birthday. Jasmine flowers, like my name that I passed on to you. I hope you know what your name means.

I don’t know how long it will have been when you see this. I don’t know if we will have died soon after we kept you safe, or years later. And I don’t know if the war will have ended six months from now or sixty years. I hope it’s not too long. You have grown up in a world I never saw, in peacetime, and I hope you never have to see war.

Always know that we loved you. We moved mountains to keep you safe, my darling girl, and my arms ache without you in them but I know that this is for the best. Live, Nashira. Find all the happiness in the world.

I wish you rainbows on every day of rain, my little star.

Your mother,

Yasmin Amani Shafiq

 

Nashira leaned back away from the letter, sniffling and trying not to mar it with tears. She dropped the letter back into her lap and pulled her backpack off of her shoulder, rooting frantically through the front pocket until she came up with a slightly grubby handkerchief. She pressed it to her eyes and sobbed.

Her mother had loved her, had wanted to be there for her. They had only given her up to save her life. They had wanted her.

She cried for a few minutes, until she could swallow back the tears and lower the handkerchief. She wanted to read the other letter. She realized suddenly that Lagrak had just been standing there waiting while she cried. She twisted to look at him. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long, Account Manager Lagrak,” she managed to choke out. “My parents left letters for me.”

Lagrak looked startled, but he smiled. “Don’t worry, Heir Shafiq-Black. You are more than important enough a customer to the bank to be worth my time.”

She nodded and turned back to the letters, took a deep breath, and picked up the second.

 

Little one,

I hope you are as lucky as we named you, Nashira. Your mother chose it, a name from her family’s heritage, but one that’s been given to a star. Everyone in my family is named for stars, except my poor cousin Narcissa. We wanted you to have a name from both of us, because you are from both of us. I hope you know the constellations and the stars. Look up and find Regulus, and know that I’m looking down at you.

I’m so sorry I’m not there for you, sweetheart. You and your mother are the best things that have ever happened to me. I only got you a few short weeks before we had to send you away, but you took my heart with you.

We’ve made sure your tuition is paid. I hope Hogwarts is peaceful in your time, with no one recruiting behind the scenes. I hope people have forgotten the war. If England is still divided, there’s a secondary trust vault with tuition for Beauxbatons. I want you to be safe, my little girl. If England isn’t kind to you, go to France. The goblins can help you find the Black family artifact that can teach you the language overnight.

I miss you, and I love you, and I hope you’re happy, my Nashira. We did everything we could to save you.

Your father,

Regulus Arcturus Black

 

Nashira bit her lip hard to hold back the tears while she carefully refolded the letters and put them back into their envelope and dropped them into her purse, then broke down crying again. Her handkerchief was cold and sodden, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. They loved her, had loved her. She had had a family. She hadn’t been thrown away, she had been saved.

She cried until her eyes hurt, then scrubbed her face with the hem of her shirt. She looked dubiously at her sodden handkerchief and decided to shove it back into her backpack instead of her magical new purse. Sniffling, she pulled out the stack of parchment Lagrak had given her and her Hogwarts letter, and tucked them into her purse instead of her backpack. It seemed like a safer place for magic things. She paused, then, thinking that she’d better make sure she really could get things back out.

Pocketknife, she thought, reaching in, and felt it under her fingers. Letters from my parents. Her groping fingers touched parchment, and when she pulled it out, it was the envelope with her name on it and the broken seal. She put it back in. Hogwarts letter. Parchment again, and she pulled it out to confirm that it was the right letter. Good. If she had dropped the letters from her parents into a bottomless pit and could never see them again, she would never have stopped crying. She dropped her vault key into the purse as well, for good measure, because it seemed less likely to get lost than way than if she put it into her backpack.

She looked back up at the trunk. There were three compartments left to look at, and Lagrak was waiting. She closed the lid and locked the trunk, then moved the key to the next keyhole over and turned it. It clicked again and she opened the lid, only to be confronted with... a blank surface of wood just below the lip of the trunk? There was a handle set into it, so she shrugged and stood up to pull on it. Once she’d started it moving, it kept going up on its own, and she let go hurriedly before it pulled up out of her reach.

Out of the trunk emerged a set of wooden doors, with several drawers underneath them. She opened the tall doors first, finding inside a closet rod with a dozen empty wooden hangers dangling from it, all smelling of cedar. She closed the doors and pulled out the drawers, which were all empty except the bottom one, which had a sachet that smelled faintly of dusty flowers when she sniffed it. Looking around the sides of the wardrobe, she found another handle that made the wardrobe go back down into the trunk when she tugged on it.

She locked the compartment and moved on to the next. This one had four different sections with handles. She pulled them up one at a time. The first one was full of old textbooks. When she peeked inside their covers, she saw her mother’s name written in the same elegant script that had signed the letter to her. The second was full of a mismatched collection of books she’d never heard of and novels she knew very well. The Chronicles of Narnia in a matching set stood next to something called Tales of Beadle the Bard. Her mother had read too. She ran her fingertips over a copy of The Collected Hans Christian Andersen and smiled so widely it hurt her cheeks. She could read the same books her mother had read.

The third and fourth shelves were empty, ready for her to fill with her own books. She went back to the second section and pulled out Morgana Reborn, picking mostly at random, and tucked it into her purse to read later, then closed the compartment and went to the next. When she unlocked it, the smell of flowers seeped out, and she opened it cautiously.

Inside was a miniature greenhouse - the sides of the trunk seemingly turned to glass with the sun shining through - and it was full to bursting of jasmine flowers. She closed her eyes and basked in the smell of flowers her mother had tended, that maybe her father had planted, if she went by the line in her mother’s letter. After she had committed the scent to memory, she opened her eyes and looked down at them again. Her eyes caught on something scratched into the glass and she leaned closer to peer at it, swiping away the condensation that obscured it.

‘Yasmin, I know you don’t use this compartment, so I thought I would make it into something that would bring you joy. Jasmine flowers for my jasmine flower. Love always, Reg.’

She touched the words again, reverently. Her father had made this for her mother. They had loved each other. She bent and buried her face in the flowers, ignoring the dew that covered her face. The cool petals soothed her swollen eyes, and she thought she could happily spend the rest of her life buried in her mother’s jasmine flowers.

After a long minute, though, she reluctantly drew back. Before she shut the trunk, she picked a sprig of flowers from the profusion and tucked them behind her ear. She started to close it, then paused and picked another sprig to drop into her purse. She closed and locked the trunk and dropped the key into the purse as well, then paused to wipe the dew off of her face with the hem of her shirt.

“I suppose I should get some money now,” she said. “Thank you for your patience, Account Manager Lagrak.”

Lagrak grinned and gestured towards the piles of money. She stepped towards them and started to scoop up a handful, then paused and looked at it. She didn’t want to run out of money without realizing it, so she should keep count. She fished around in her backpack again for one of the small notebooks that she wrote lists of what books she wanted and how long it would take to save for them in, and turned it to a blank page. Then she started lining up galleons in piles of 20. There was so much money, and she had no idea how much all the things she had to buy would cost, so she counted out twenty piles and transferred them into her purse, then added ten piles of ten each of sickles and knuts. She noted all the numbers down in her notebook, then dropped it and her pen into the purse as well.

She hefted the purse experimentally. All of those coins had been terribly heavy, but Lagrak was right, the purse didn’t weigh any more than it had before she had poured them all into it. She stood up and turned to Lagrak. “I think I’m ready now.” She paused. “Wait - can you convert into pounds straight out of my account, or do I need to bring up extra galleons for that?”

“We can debit your account ourselves, you need only request how much currency you require.”

Nashira nodded. “All right. I’m done here, then. Except, how can I bring this trunk with me? The letter says I need one for school, but I don’t think I could fit it in the cart with me, even if I could carry it.”

Lagrak grinned. “Feel for the bonds with your house elves. While you are in the vault, you can call one of them here, and it can carry things for you. If you want something fetched from a vault while you are outside, it will have to have the key, or you will have to come with it - the Heir or Head rings will not work if you are not wearing them.”

Nashira bit her lip uncertainly and focused on the bonds with the house elves. She focused on the ones bound to Loch Willow, her favorite from the glimpses of them she’d seen, and picked the one that looked friendliest. “Um, Mildy?” she said uncertainly.

There was a loud pop, and the house elf appeared in front of her. Her eyes and ears were just as large as Nashira had seen in her head, and she was wearing a starched white pillowcase with the Shafiq family crest embroidered onto it in purple and copper thread.

The house elf stared at her, its eyes going even wider, and they filled with tears. “Young mistress!” she cried. “We have waited for you for so many years, and you have returned to us! And you have called Mildy first! Mildy is honored!” She burst into noisy tears.

Nashira stared at her, nonplussed. She hadn’t been expecting quite this sort of reaction. Then again, Lagrak had said they bonded with wizards, and they hadn’t been able to bond to anyone in years, since all the family had died, had they? They had had the houses, but that couldn’t be the same. “Um, it’s nice to meet you, Mildy,” she ventured.

Mildy beamed up at her. “Young mistress is just as kind as her mother was! What does young mistress need from Mildy?”

“Please call me Nashira,” she said uncomfortably.

“Yes, Miss Nashira!”

Nashira supposed that that was as good as she was going to get. “Um, could you carry my trunk for me? I need to go shopping for school supplies, and I don’t think I can carry it out of the bank myself.”

“Of course, Miss Nashira! Miss Nashira should not have to carry her own trunk!” Mildy snapped her fingers, and the trunk floated into the air and hovered next to the house elf.

Nashira looked up at Lagrak. “Can I come back and look at the other vaults I can access later? I’m- not sure I can handle seeing more of my parents’ things right now.”

Lagrak’s smile looked almost gentle, or perhaps she was just getting used to it.. “Of course, Heir Shafiq-Black. We can take the carts up to the surface and you can get your muggle pounds, and your elf can help you find where you need to buy your things. House elves often do the shopping for lazy wizards, so she should know all of the stores you need.”

Nashira nodded. “All right. Thank you, Account Manager Lagrak.”

Lagrak led the way out of the vault, and once Nashira and Mildy and the trunk had all passed through the arch, the door reappeared, sudden and silent. Lagrak climbed back into the front cart, and Nashira climbed into the second one, then bit her lip. “Mildy, can you fit in here next to me?” she asked.

Mildy looked nervous. “Mildy has ridden in the goblin carts before, and they make Mildy... not well. May Mildy wait here until Miss Nashira reaches the surface, and then Miss Nashira can call her again, and Mildy will apparate to her side instead?”

“Oh, you get motion sickness!” Nashira exclaimed. “Of course you don’t have to ride with me. I’ll call you when I get off the cart.”

“Miss Nashira is very kind!” Mildy cried, beaming. “Mildy will wait here.”

Lagrak frowned. “No one is to be unsupervised in the vaults. Apparate home, elf, and then return when she calls you.”

Mildy squeaked. “Of course, of course, goblin sir! Mildy is sorry.” She grabbed the trunk and vanished with a loud pop. Before Nashira could do anything else, Lagrak pulled several of the levers on the cart, and with a loud grinding sound it set off again, looping around and onto another track. Within a couple of minutes, it was back in the cavern at the top that they had set off from. Nashira climbed out, slightly unsteady, and Lagrak pulled a lever that sent the cart off to disappear behind a door in the wall.

Nashira shook herself, and once she had her balance back, called for Mildy again. Mildy appeared in front of her.

Lagrak gestured for Nashira to follow, then headed for a set of double doors off to one side from the hallway they had entered from before. Nashira hurried after him, and they emerged into a huge marble hall that left her blinking, it was so much more brightly lit than the vaults. Lagrak led her over to an empty counter and sat down behind it.

“How much muggle currency would you like, Heir Shafiq-Black?”

“Um, just a moment please, Account Manager Lagrak.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her notebook and pen, then scanned down through the list of books, adding up in her head, then adding half again as much for good measure, just in case. “Three hundred pounds, please.” Wait, she might need some clothes, too. “Sorry, no, five hundred.” She didn’t have to spend all of it, after all. It would probably be better not to spend all of it, actually, to avoid getting accused of theft. It would probably be suspicious for an eleven year old to have hundred pound notes. “Um, can I have it in twenty pound notes?”

Lagrak nodded. “Of course.” He reached below the desk and pulled out a tray of money, then counted out twenty-five notes into a pile, which he pushed over to her. She took them and dropped them into her purse. She probably needed to buy a wallet. Having her money just floating around in her purse at random seemed silly, and it would probably also look strange in stores.

“Thank you, Account Manager Lagrak. I’ll be back to see the other vaults soon.”

He grinned. “I will see you then, Heir Shafiq-Black.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter eggs in this chapter:
> 
> Loch Willow: A reference to Lock Willow, from Daddy Long Legs, the 1912 epistolary novel by Jean Webster.  
> http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/157
> 
> All easter eggs are added with the greatest affection for what they reference, and may be considered a recommendation for the work in question.


	3. School Supplies and a Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nashira and Mildy buy school supplies in Diagon Alley, and meet a few people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that it made no sense for Mildy to be bringing the trunk around everywhere - I think I'd originally intended for Nashira to be putting things in it as she got them, but then I started shrinking packages and it became moot - so I've edited out Mildy bringing the trunk back from the previous chapter and hopefully caught all of the instances of it appearing in this one.

Nashira pulled her Hogwarts letter out of her purse and turned to Mildy. “Um, Mildy, can you lead me to where I need to go to get school robes? I might as well just go down the list from top to bottom, to be sure I don’t miss anything.”

Mildy nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, Miss Nashira! Mildy will take you to Madam Malkin’s, where all the young witches and wizards get their Hogwarts robes.”

“There’s only one shop for it?” Nashira asked as she followed after Mildy towards the front doors of the bank. 

“There are secondhand shops, in Diagon and Knockturn Alleys, and there is Twilfitt and Tattings for the dress robes, but Mistress Yasmin always said it was silly to get everyday robes at Twilfitt and Tattings.”

“I’m sure she knew best,” Nashira said faintly. She wondered how many more of her mother’s opinions on things the house elves knew, and how rude it would be to start interrogating them about it.

At this point her train of thought was disrupted, because they had reached the huge front doors of Gringotts, and she could see out. She stopped short in shock. There were so many people wearing strange clothing, and owls everywhere, and signs that jumped and flashed and danced.

Mildy looked back over her shoulder at Nashira. “This is Diagon Alley, Miss Nashira. Mildy remembers Mistress Yasmin’s first time here. She snuck into Florean Fortescue’s ice cream shop and it took Mistress Amani and Master Jabir half an hour to find her.”

Nashira giggled a little, picturing a little girl with hair like hers hiding behind an ice cream counter, than paused. “Mildy, are there any pictures of my parents?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira!” Mildy said, shocked. “When we are finished with the shopping, Mildy will take Miss Nashira back to Villa Shafiq and show her the albums. I am sure the elves at the Black houses have pictures of Master Regulus.” She paused. “They may also have had pictures of themselves together in the little flat in London where they lived where Miss Nashira was born, but Mildy is not one of the elves assigned to clean it, so Mildy does not know.”

Nashira smiled tremulously. “Thank you, Mildy.” She could see what her parents had looked like. She could see where they had lived - she hadn’t paid much attention to the flat when she had been accepting the house wards, but she would have paid more if she had realized at the time that it has been her _parents’_ flat, not just a family one. All of the family properties made her feel warm inside, that she had a heritage, but her parents’ flat was even more special. She definitely needed to go there.

She followed Mildy out and into the throng of people. She wasn’t the only one with a house elf, though she was the only one following the elf rather than the other way around. She supposed the other people here knew where they were going.

After several minutes of trying not to gawk too obviously at everything around her, they reached a sedate shopfront with a sign reading ‘Madam Malkin’s: Robes for all occasions’ above the door. Mildy stepped back and gestured for Nashira to go in. “Mildy will wait outside for Miss Nashira.”

Nashira bit her lip, but stepped forward and pushed open the door, which set a bell tinkling in the distance. The shop was cool and almost dim compared to the street outside, and it was a welcome relief after the sensory overload of the Alley. After a few moments, a young woman stepped out from behind a curtain at the back of the shop and walked towards Nashira with a smile.

“Hello! I’m Marcia Malkin. Are you here for your school robes?”

“Yes,” Nashira said. “It says here I need three sets, and a winter cloak and a hat and gloves.”

Marcia nodded cheerfully. “Of course, the standard set-out. Would you like any extras? If you’re expecting a growth spurt, we can add some charms into the hems so they stay the proper length. And if you’re hard on your clothes, you can always order an extra set or two.” She winked. “I know I was forever tearing mine, and the house elves can only mend things so much before they go to pieces.”

“Um, can you show me what they look like?” Nashira asked hesitantly.

“Of course. Muggleborn, are you? Nevermind, we Malkins don’t think any less of you for it.” She pulled a stick out of her pocket and gestured at another curtain along the wall, which danced aside to reveal a mannequin. Another flick of her wand, and the mannequin was dressed in loose floor-length robes. “This is the classic, what all the old families go for, and they insist anything else should be against the rules.” She flicked the wand again, and the outfit changed to a pleated skirt and collared shirt with a robe that was more like an untied bathrobe in shape. “This is popular with the newer families, and they tell me the muggleborns are more comfortable with it.” With another flick of the wand, the mannequin was back to the first set of robes, but with a heavy cloak that looked like wool over it. It had a hood and deep pockets. “This is the winter cloak.”

Nashira bit her lip. “How much do they cost?”

“The classic robe set is six galleons, and the modern is ten, because there are more pieces. The cloak is three galleons. Adding name tags to everything is three knuts per item.” She paused then slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh! And the hat is a galleon, though it’s optional to wear it now, it’s still on the list.”

Nashira looked back down at the list. “Do you have the dragonhide gloves, too?”

Marcia dropped her head back and groaned. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. They’re five galleons.”

Nashira totaled everything up in her head and nodded. “Can I get one of each set, please? I’m not sure which I’d rather wear. And the cloak and hat and gloves, and labels in everything.”

Marcia looked surprised, but nodded. “That’ll be 25 galleons 16 knuts, if you’re sure. And if you’re planning on bringing any of your muggle clothing with you, or underthings, we can sell you some extra name tags to put in them.”

“How much are those?”

“You can have forty for a sickle, and they’re self-adhering.”

“I’ll take those too, then.” Nashira reached into her purse, thinking of galleons, and counted out twenty-five onto the counter, then one sickle and sixteen knuts.

“I’ve got to take your measurements first!” Marcia said, jumping up. “I should have been taking them all this time, I’m sorry.” She pulled a measuring tape out of her pocket and tapped it with her wand, after which it immediately flew towards Nashira and started wrapping itself around and spreading itself along various bits of her anatomy. She squeaked when it measured her inseam. “Oh, nevermind the tape, it doesn’t understand that people might mind.” Marcia leaned forward conspiratorially. “It got most of its personality from my grandmother, who founded the shop, and she never saw any sense in being ‘prudish’ about measuring either.”

After the tape had finished all of the reasonable-seeming measurements and had moved on to measuring the length of Nashira’s nose, Marcia flicked her wand at it again and it coiled itself back up and landed in her hand. She shoved it absent-mindedly back in her pocket and smiled at Nashira. “We’ll have those ready in an hour or so, if you want to come back for them!”

Nashira nodded. “All right. Um, do you need my name? For the tags and all?”

Marcia clapped her hand over her mouth again. “Oops. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on. Of course, yes.”

“I’ve got four names. Should I only have the first and last ones on my labels?”

“Better safe than sorry, dear, you might as well put them all on. It doesn’t cost any more.”

“All right. My name is Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black.”

Marcia dropped her wand. “Shafiq? Really? You- no, you can’t be, you’re far too young, nevermind me.” She bent and picked up her wand, chattering away to cover her shock. “We’ll have those ready for you in a trice, and you just remember Madam Malkin’s when you need robes, all right?”

Nashira decided it would be easier not to explain about not existing for twenty years, especially when she didn’t really understand it herself, and smiled at Marcia. “I will, thank you.”

She turned and went back out of the shop, blinking at the sudden light. Mildy hurried to her side. “Miss Nashira has ordered her robes?”

“Yes, Mildy, thank you.” Nashira pulled her notebook out of her purse and carefully noted down what she’d spent on the robes, then put it away and looked down at the letter again. “Next is the books.”

Mildy bobbed her head excitedly. “Yes, your schoolbooks will be at Flourish and Blott’s! If Miss Nashira will follow Mildy, Mildy will show her the way there.”

“Thank you, Mildy. And could you please come into the bookshop with me? I’d like your help carrying things.”

Mildy squeaked in distress. “Of course, Miss Nashira, of course! Mildy stayed outside of Madam Malkin’s because Mildy knew you would have to wait for the robes.”

Nashira smiled down at the elf. “Thank you, Mildy. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

Mildy blushed violently, turning red to the tips of her ears. “Miss Nashira is too kind!” She hurried ahead, gesturing at an upcoming storefront. “This is being Flourish and Blott’s, Miss Nashira. Mildy will follow you in.”

Nashira nodded. “All right.” She pushed the door open cautiously and stepped into the shop, reveling in the smell of books. She looked down at Mildy. “How do I find the books I need?”

“If Miss Nashira asks at the counter, they should have sets of schoolbooks ready for students!”

“I think I’ll look around at the other books first, then, and go up to the counter to get my schoolbooks when I’m ready to pay,” Nashira said.

“Mildy will carry anything Miss Nashira needs!”

“Thank you, Mildy,” Nashira said, and headed into the shelves. The first thing she found was a section of shining new books titled _So You’re A Wizard!_ and _So You’re A Witch!_. She picked up one of the latter and looked inside the cover, which confirmed that it was indeed an introduction to the wizarding world - for muggleborn witches. She wasn’t exactly sure what a muggleborn was, but she could definitely use an introduction to the wizarding world, so she handed the book to Mildy and continued down the shelves. There was a section of _How Muggles Make Things Work_ books. She definitely didn’t need those - and if she had, she’d just get some _How Things Work_ books from Waterstones.

The next bookcase over held book after book of charms, most of which she decided she’d do better to look at after she had some idea what magic was about. She didn’t know the difference between a jinx and a hex right now, or why she’d want to do either one. There was a small volume almost hidden at one end titled _Witches’ Tricks_ that she picked up and paged through. The first chapters were all about cosmetics charms, and Nashira skipped over them. She definitely didn’t care about that yet. There was another chapter on love divination that she wasn’t interested in yet either, but the one after that was perfume charms, and one of them was jasmine. The book would be worth it for that alone, so she handed it to Mildy. She’d look at the rest later.

The next shelf over seemed to be potions. Most of the books were very specific - _The Twelve Uses of Dragon’s Blood_ , _Flobberworm Slime in Potionmaking_ , _Dittany in the Home_ \- but there was one large volume titled _Actions and Reactions: The Theory of Potionmaking’s How and Why_. She would much rather know how and why things worked than just follow a recipe and hope it did what it said, so she handed that one to Mildy as well. The rest, like charms, she didn’t know enough to know what she might want right now. 

Nashira walked on to the next shelf, which was books on history. She stopped herself from just scooping them all up. She would have a history class at school, if the book list was any guide, so she didn’t need to teach herself everything about it right now. She restrained herself to two volumes: _The Life and Works of Merlin_ and _Hogwarts, A History_. She had read about Merlin in tales about King Arthur, and if he was real, she wanted to know which parts were true. And she definitely wanted to know all about the school she was going to. (Probably going to? The part in her father’s letter about divisions and recruitment had been worrying, but she wasn’t going to go to France if she didn’t have a reason to.) 

The next shelf was books about plants and gardening, and she combed through until she found a volume on flowers titled _Ever-Blooming_ that had a chapter about jasmine. Apparently it was good for potions to attract or distract attention. More importantly, to Nashira, was advice for cultivating it. She didn’t want there to be any chance something would go wrong with her mother’s jasmine plants.

The transfiguration section was as overwhelming as the charms one, and she skipped past it.

The shelf after that was about magical beasts. Most of them sounded very technical, like _Keeping the Constant - a guide to non-hermaphroditic snail breeding_. Nashira was definitely not planning to breed snails anytime soon, hermaphroditic or otherwise. She went on to the next shelf, which was a haphazard mix of novels she recognized from her mother’s trunk and more academic sounding texts. She picked out _Pictures in the Sky: The Constellations of the Northern Hemisphere_ and _Names of the Stars_ , hoping she’d find something about her name and her father’s in them. Surely they could tell her how to pick out Regulus in the sky.

Mildy’s pile of books was starting to look precarious, even though she wasn’t complaining, so Nashira decided that the next book she found would be the last one she picked. She turned to the back wall and ran her finger over the titles, scanning for anything that jumped out at her. A dusty set of books by someone called Gilderoy Lockhart, a thick pink volume titled _Witch Weekly Collected Serials 1993-1995_ , a worn row of romance novels... A stray thread snagged her finger and Nashira stopped to look at what it was. The book was bound in faded violet cloth and looked well loved, with the silver almost worn out of the letters spelling out _Sappho in Exile: Poetic Magic_. She liked poems, and it sounded interesting, so she handed it to Mildy and turned towards the counter.

There was a line at the counter, so she waited at the end for the other customers to finish. There was a display next to the line of enchanted quills, which she examined dubiously. Quills seemed hard to write with. Why didn’t wizards just use pens? She picked up a package of purple quills, thinking of the color of her mother’s seal on the letter, but resolved to buy a bunch of pens in a normal shop to take with her as well. Maybe a fountain pen so she could refill it, since she wouldn’t be able to go to a shop and buy more pens if they ran out of ink mid-year. There was also an ever-full inkwell whose packaging claimed it was also enchanted to never spill, so she picked that up too. If she was going to write with a quill at all, she’d need ink, and maybe she could refill a fountain pen from it too, though perhaps the never-spill enchantment would prevent her from pouring out of it as well.

As she moved up along the line, she saw other stationery bits and bobs, from scrolls of scented pink parchment to a stamp that made a three-dimensional set of lips float up off of your letters. Nashira made a face. It seemed very silly. There was also a rack of sticks of sealing wax, and she picked up one in purple and one in black, the same colors her parents had used. There might be sealing wax already in the family properties, but after seeing how fragile the seal on her letter was, she thought it might not be good anymore.

Mildy clucked her tongue at Nashira trying to juggle the wax, quills, and inkwell. “Give those to Mildy, Miss Nashira, you don’t need to hold them.”

“But your hands are full,” Nashira protested. “You can barely see over the books!”

“Mildy will hold them in the air, like Mildy was holding Miss Nashira’s trunk,” she said patiently. “Miss Nashira needn’t worry herself with such things. Mildy is here to help Miss Nashira.”

Nashira sighed, but she held out the items to Mildy, and they floated into the air to hover near the elf’s head. Nashira turned back around to find she was next in line, and a cheerful looking man beckoned her forward. “Shopping for school, luv? You look the age for it.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “I need the first year textbooks - Mildy said I should ask at the counter for them?”

“Of course, luv,” he said, and turned to the shelves behind him and pulled down a shrunken pile of books wrapped in brown paper. “Here we are, first year. If you’ll put the rest of your books up on the counter, I’ll total you up.”

Before Nashira could say anything, Mildy did something behind her, and the pile of books and everything else floated up onto the counter. The clerk raised an eyebrow at the poetry book, but looked down at Mildy and kept scribbling prices on a roll of parchment with a shrug. “That’s fifteen galleons, five sickles, and six knuts, miss.”

Nashira reached into her purse and counted out the right number of coins onto the counter.

“All right, luv. You want me to wrap the rest of this up for you?”

“Um, yes please,” Nashira said, looking at the pile of books. 

The clerk pulled out a roll of brown paper from behind him and tore off a piece, set the books and the rest on top, then flicked his wand at it. The paper wrapped everything up neatly and piece of twine flew out and tied it up, and with another flick of his wand the package shrunk down to the same size as the stack of textbooks. “There you are, miss. Have a good time at school.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, blushing a little, and grabbed both packages of books and dropped them into her purse. She turned to leave, then paused and turned back. “Um, how do I unshrink these?”

“Ah, bless you, luv. Muggleborn, are you?” He shot a curious look at Mildy, then shrugged. “Just unwrap them, and they’ll go back to normal right enough. The magic’s all in the wrapping.”

“Thank you,” she said again, then hurried out of the store. 

Nashira noted down the cost of the books and looked down at her letter again, to see what she needed to buy next, but was interrupted by a growl from her stomach. She looked at her watch to find that it was nearly noon. No wonder she was hungry. “Mildy, do you know where I can get some food?”

Mildy bobbed her head. “Of course, Miss Nashira! There are many vendors selling food along the street. Miss Nashira only needs to find one she likes.”

Nashira looked up the street, picking out stalls along the edges now. She saw one with an image floating above the stall of a bowl of what looked like a vegetable stew and decided to head for it. There was a little park-looking area just past it with picnic tables where she could eat.

It took her several minutes to weave her way through the crowds, but she eventually reached the stall and got into line. The line, thankfully, moved quickly, and she was shortly at its head. Now that she was closer, she could smell it - it wasn’t very much like the vegetable stew they served at the Home. It smelled of very different spices, and it looked rather yellow. It also looked and smelled absolutely delicious, and she was starving.

“What can I get you?” the man behind the stall asked. “It’s four sickles for daal, six for palak paneer, and ten for chicken tikka masala. Five knuts each for naan.”

“Um, can I get half daal and half palak paneer?” she asked nervously. “They both look so good.”

“Of course you can. Five sickles, and do you want any naan with it?” He looked at her wide eyes and smiled. “That’s a flat bread you can dip in the other things.”

“Oh! Yes, please,” she said. “Two naan, and- Mildy, are you hungry?” She turned to the elf. 

Mildy’s eyes widened. “Miss Nashira is too kind, to offer to buy Mildy food! Mildy will eat at home, Miss Nashira needn’t worry about Mildy!”

Nashira frowned at her, then turned back to the man in the stall. “Three naan, please. That’s - five sickles and fifteen knuts?”

“Right you are,” he said cheerfully, and started dishing up the food into a thick cardboard bowl he produced from underneath the counter, then rolling up three naan and sticking them into a paper cone attached to the side. 

Nashira hurriedly counted the money out of her purse and handed it to him, and he gave her the bowl, dropping in a rough wooden spoon. 

“Enjoy!”

“I will, thank you, sir,” she said, and headed for an empty table. She sat down and put the bowl down in front of her, then scooped up a big mouthful of the green palak paneer and stuck it into her mouth. Her eyes widened. It had so much more flavor than creamed spinach! She tore off a piece of naan and dipped it in, shoveling down the food until she was half done with the palak paneer, then paused, realizing that Mildy was still standing up behind her. “Mildy, sit down please,” she said. 

Mildy jumped, and hesitantly walked around to perch on the very edge of the other seat. “Yes, Miss Nashira.”

Nashira picked up the third naan and held it out to Mildy. “Here. Eat this. I don’t want you going hungry.”

Mildy shook her head. “Miss Nashira is too kind, but it is not proper. Mildy will be fine.”

Nashira sighed and tried another tactic. “I get dizzy when I go without eating for too long. I don’t want you to get dizzy and drop something. Please eat a little?”

Mildy reluctantly took the naan. “If Miss Nashira insists.”

“I do,” Nashira said firmly.

Mildy sighed and started delicately nibbling on the naan. Nashira turned back to her own food and tried the daal, which was just as delicious as the palak paneer. She demolished both in short order, and wiped the last traces of sauce out of the cracks of the bowl with the naan and sat back with a satisfied sigh.

“I feel much better.” She looked around. “I don’t see a rubbish bin. Mildy, do you know where I should throw this away?”

“Mildy will banish it for you, Miss Nashira. Wizards are not needing rubbish bins.”

Nashira blinked in surprise, but handed the bowl to Mildy, who snapped her fingers and it disappeared.

Nashira started to reach into her purse again, then paused and looked at her hands. She wasn’t a terribly messy eater, but the naan had left some grease on her fingers, and there were a few smears of daal and palak paneer. “Mildy, can you clean my hands?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira.” Mildy snapped her fingers again, and Nashira’s hands felt like a wave of bubbles had gone over them. When she examined them again, they were sparkling clean, even the dirt under her fingernails gone.

“Thank you, Mildy.” Nashira noted down how much the food had cost, then pulled her Hogwarts letter out of her purse again and looked for the next thing on the equipment list. One wand. “Where do I buy a wand?”

“At Ollivander’s, Miss Nashira! Mildy will show you the way.” The elf bounced to her feet and turned down the street. Nashira stood and followed after her.

Mildy led the way through the crowds to an ancient looking shop with a sign reading ‘OLLIVANDER’S’, and in smaller print underneath, ‘Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.’

“Wow,” Nashira whispered, looking at the aging building with more respect. It had a dusty front window, with a single wand lying on a purple velvet cushion on display. Mildy stepped back and motioned for Nashira to go in first, so Nashira pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The shop was cool and dark, and smelled of dust and faintly of smoke. She hadn’t heard a bell go off when she opened the door like in Madam Malkin’s, but a few moments after the door closed behind Mildy, she heard footsteps from beyond the little door behind the counter. The door opened, and a young woman hurried out, followed at a more sedate pace by an elderly man.

“Good afternoon,” the young woman said. “I am Gwennol Ollivander, and this is my grandfather, Garrick Ollivander. Are you looking for your first wand?”

Nashira nodded and held up her Hogwarts letter. “This says I need one. I don’t know anything about how to pick, though,” she said, looking at the hundreds of boxes covering every wall.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Gwennol said. “The wand chooses the witch, you know. I’ll just take some measurements to give me a starting place, and I’ll give you some to try out. When you find the right one, you’ll know.” She pulled a tape measure out of her pocket and set it to measuring Nashira with a flick of her wand, just like Marcia had. Instead of measuring her inseams, though, this one measured each of her fingers individually, and every part of her arms and head - even the width of her eyes. “Now, which is your wand arm?”

“I’m right-handed,” Nashira said uncertainly.

Gwennol flicked her wand at the tape measure again, and it coiled itself into a pile on the countertop while she started rummaging through the boxes. She produced a wand and handed it to Nashira. “Here you are, try this. Red oak and dragon heartstring, ten inches, stiff.”

Nashira took it and waved it hesitantly. Nothing happened.

Gwennol took it out of her hand and handed her another. “No, no, that won’t do at all, will it? Vine and phoenix feather, twelve and a half inches, whippy.”

Nashira waved it, feeling quite silly. Nothing at all happened.

“What is your name, child?” asked the older man.

“Nashira Black, sir.”

His eyes sharpened. “Your full name?”

“Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black.” She didn’t know how he knew she had more names.

“Ahh. Yasmin and Regulus’s daughter, yes?” Nashira nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t seem to expect an answer. “I remember their wands well. Your father’s was cypress and dragon heartstring, eleven inches, quite rigid, a powerful wand but a tragic one. I was not surprised when I heard how he died. Your mother’s was cedar and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches, stiff. You favor her, I think. Gwennol, try her with unicorn hair, and perhaps rowan.”

Gwennol took the vine wand and searched among the boxes for another, producing one after a few long moments and handing it to Nashira. “Rowan and unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, stiff.”

Nashira took it and felt a slight tingle for a second, then nothing. “There was something for a second,” she said uncertainly.

“Ah, we’re getting close, then!” Gwennol peered at Nashira intently, and she shrunk back a little. Gwennol spun around and strode to a corner, rummaging through the boxes until she came up with another wand. “Willow and unicorn hair, nine inches, quite flexible.” She took the rowan wand and handed the willow one to Nashira.

The wood seemed to come alive in Nashira’s hand, and when she flicked it experimentally, a trail of silver sparkles followed the tip through the air. Her eyes widened and she stared down at it. The wood was pale and finely polished, and she thought it was beautiful.

“Good, good,” said the old man. Nashira looked up to see him smiling at his granddaughter. “Your intuition is coming along nicely, Gwennol.”

Gwennol smiled back at him. “Thank you, Grandfather. I still have a lot to learn. Dragon heartstring, really.” She shook her head at herself. She turned back to Nashira. “That’ll be seven galleons, Miss Black.”

Nashira counted them out onto the counter, then looked down at her new wand. “Will it hurt my wand any to be in a magic purse, Miss Ollivander?” she asked. She held up the silver purse. “Lagrak said this is bigger inside than out.”

“No, dear, not at all. It’ll be quite safe there, though I’m sure soon you’ll miss it when it’s not to hand! A loyal wand, that will be.” Gwennol smiled at her. “Good luck at Hogwarts.”

Nashira dropped the wand into her purse and smiled back at Gwennol. “Thank you.” She turned and exited the shop, then backed against the wall to note down the cost and look at the equipment list again. “Next is a cauldon. Where do I get those, Mildy?”

“Potage’s is by the Leaky Cauldron, Miss Nashira!”

“Hopefully their cauldrons don’t leak,” Nashira said. 

“Oh, no, Miss Nashira! The Leaky Cauldron is a pub and inn, and the entrance from London into Diagon Alley.”

Nashira nodded. “All right. Lead the way, Mildy.”

Mildy headed off down the street, and Nashira followed in her wake. After several minutes, they reached a shop with a large hanging sign that simply said ‘CAULDRONS’. Nashira pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was full of shelves with stacks of cauldrons in a baffling variety of materials and sizes, all unlabeled. Nashira stepped hesitantly up to the counter. “Um, ma’am?” 

A cheerful-looking witch with curly grey hair bustled over to her. “Yes, dear?”

“I need a pewter cauldron, size two? I’m not sure which that is.”

“Oh, of course, dear. Off to Hogwarts, are you? I’ll just step into the back and grab you one, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She vanished behind a curtain and there were a few moments of rattling noises, then she emerged with a silvery cauldron about the size of Nashira’s head. “Here you are, dear, and that’s fifteen galleons.”

Nashira counted the money out for her. “Can you wrap and shrink it?”

“Of course, dear. Buying all your supplies today? Where are your parents?” She looked down at Mildy. “Sending you out with just a house elf?” She shook her head disapprovingly.

“They’re dead,” Nashira said quietly.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” the witch said, looking horrified and pitying. “Well, you’ll find a family at Hogwarts, right enough. Your house is your family, especially in Hufflepuff - that’s where I was, you know.” She wrapped the cauldron up in paper and string and tapped it with her wand, shrinking it down to size, and handed it to Nashira. “Here you are, dear.” She paused then, and reached under the counter and pulled out a large peppermint candy. “Have a humbug, dear, no charge.”

Nashira dropped the cauldron package into her purse and took the peppermint humbug awkwardly. No one knew how to act around orphans, and she hated it. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said quietly, and left the shop.

She walked a ways up the street before pausing to drop the humbug into her purse and fish out her notebook to write down the expense, afraid that the woman would try to follow her and be all pitying at her again. She dropped the notebook back into her purse and looked down at Mildy. “Next is glass or crystal phials. Where do I buy those?”

“Wiseacre’s should have those, Miss Nashira, and your scales and telescope. If Miss Nashira will follow Mildy, Mildy will take her there.”

Nashira nodded and followed after Mildy, back down the other way down the street, thinking that there was probably a much more efficient way to have done this if she had known anything about the layout of Diagon Alley. Shortly, they reached a shop with a jumble of brass and silver instruments in the front window, and a sign over it reading ‘Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment’. 

Nashira pushed open the door and thought she heard the faint jingle of a bell, but it was hard to tell over the ticking and chiming of various clocks, and the rush of sand from a row of hourglasses on the counter. There was a rack of scales in front of her, so she headed for that first, picking out a shiny brass set with different flowers engraved into the weights. She handed the scales to Mildy and looked for the next thing, quickly locating a rack of phials. The crystal phials were only a little more expensive than the glass, and the packaging declared that they were unbreakable, so she decided to splurge a little and handed a box of them to Mildy.

In the back of the shop were shelves of telescopes of various sizes. Nashira stared at a huge silver one, thinking about how much she might be able to see of her father’s star with it.

“There is a telescope bigger than that in the conservatory at Hikmah, Miss Nashira,” Mildy ventured. “You only need a small one for school.”

Nashira tore herself away from it and looked at the row of smaller collapsible telescopes, choosing one in a leather case that had Casseiopeia embossed into it. It was one of the first constellations she’d been reliably able to pick out in the sky, and she liked its story. She looked around. “I think that’s everything I need here.” She walked over to the counter and stood in line behind a man who was arguing that his hourglass was faulty, while the clerk patiently repeated that the guarantee did not cover throwing them down the stairs.

Eventually the dissatisfied customer left in a huff, and Nashira stepped up to the counter. Mildy floated her purchases up onto it in front of her.

The man smiled down at her. “Hogwarts, is it? That’s thirteen- no, you’ve got the crystal phials, sorry, fifteen galleons.”

Nashira handed him the money. “Can you package these up and shrink them for me?”

“Of course,” he said, and flicked his wand at the items. A sheet of brown paper flew up from under the desk and wrapped around them, then a piece of twine bundled them up, and another tap of his wand shrunk them down to fit into her palm. “Here you are.”

Nashira took it and dropped the package into her purse. “Thank you, sir.” She left the shop and paused against the wall to note down the cost.

“That’s everything, then, except - this says we’re allowed an owl or a cat or a toad. I’ve always wanted a cat. Can I get one here, Mildy?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira! The Magical Menagerie has all kinds of animals. Miss Nashira can find a pet there.” Mildy led the way up the street without having to be asked this time, and it was only a few storefronts down that an open door sat under a sign reading ‘MAGICAL MENAGERIE’. 

Nashira stepped inside and was overwhelmed for a moment by all the different _smells_ , but after a few seconds she got used to them and could pay attention to what she was seeing as well. A huge cage in the middle of the shop held a group of brightly colored parrots that seemed to be laughing at a kid whose hair color was changing to match each bird in turn. 

Along the left wall was a bank of fish tanks full of water, and then tanks without water that looked like they held reptiles. Nashira could see an enormous snake lazing on a rock in one of them. She stepped forward, trying to look at everything at once, and dodged around the parrot cage. She paused for a minute to look at a tumbling pile of ferrets playing, but ferrets weren’t on the list (which was a pity, because they were adorable, though they did smell a little weird), so she continued on. At the back of the store was a row of baskets full of cats - some bigger than she’d ever seen, some tiny kittens. She looked over all of them, not sure how one picked a pet. As she walked past a basket containing only a single Siamese kitten whose face looked almost lavender, it jumped up from its nap and half-climbed up the wall of the basket, miaouing at her imperiously. 

Charmed, she put her hand down for it to sniff. The kitten wrapped its paws around her hand and licked her knuckles for a few seconds, then lost its balance and fell onto its back. It scrambled back to its feet and headbutted her fingers.

“She likes you,” came voice from over her shoulder. Nashira turned to see a teenage clerk with skin a little darker than Nashira’s own and a shock of bright blue curls. “Were you looking for a cat?”

“Yes,” Nashira said. “My Hogwarts letter says I’m allowed one, and I’ve never had a pet before. I wasn’t sure how to pick-”

“But she seems to have done it for you? That’s how it is with cats.” The clerk winked. “They’re very good judges of character, cats. Are you going to take her?”

“Yes, please. And... I suppose I need toys and food and things for her.” Nashira looked down helplessly at the kitten, which had started licking her knuckles again. “I have no idea what I need.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you set up!” the clerk said cheerfully. “If you want to carry her with you, I can show you what you’ll want. Is that house elf yours?”

Nashira looked over her shoulder to see Mildy hovering. “Oh, yes.”

“She can help us carry things, then, and I’ll shrink it all down for you to carry home.”

Nashira picked up the kitten and followed the clerk into the maze of shelves. 

“Here’s the cat food,” the clerk said, pointing at several different bags. They didn’t look anything like cat food she’d seen in shops before - all of them were printed with boasts about fresh meat and preservation charms. They advertised a bewildering array of meats, from squirrel to mutton to venison to rabbit. 

Nashira looked down at the kitten. “What do you think?” The kitten miaoued and batted at her shirt. “No, I don’t know either.”

The clerk grinned. “I’ll tell you what, I remember she always makes a beeline for the lamb when we feed the cats. Go for the mutton.” The clerk picked up the bag and held it out. Mildy floated it out of her hands and the clerk laughed. “Handy, that is.” The clerk led the way into another aisle, this one lined with a huge array of toys. “This one you can let her choose herself. Try a few things, and see what she likes best.”

Nashira picked up a small ball from a tray and offered it to the kitten. She sniffed it, then swatted it out of Nashira’s hand. She watched it bounce on the floor for a few seconds, then leapt down after it. Nashira squeaked in surprise.

The kitten pounced on the ball, savaged it briefly, then picked it up in her mouth and trotted back over to Nashira and looked up at her expectantly.

The clerk laughed. “I think she wants you to throw it again. We can safely say that she likes that one!”

Nashira tried a few other toys with the kitten, finding that she enjoyed a stick with a pom-pom of fabric scraps at the end and a little stuffed bear.

“Onwards!” declared the clerk, and marched off towards the next aisle. Nashira leaned down to scoop up the kitten and followed after, looking down at her, and didn’t look where she was going until she ran into someone. The kitten squeaked loudly, offended by being squished.   
“I’m sorry!” Nashira cried, looking up. It was a kid who looked about her own age, with brown hair and blue eyes against pale skin. 

“No, it’s my fault,” they mumbled. Their hair turned bright red, and their skin did as well, though the latter switched back to a human color after a few moments. “Sorry.” They held up a bag labeled SNAKE SNACKS in bright green letters. “I was getting these for my godfather. He says I can’t bring a parrot to school.”

“It isn’t on the list of approved pets,” Nashira said, confused.

“People bring things that aren’t on the list all the time! Aunt Rhonda had a rat, that Aunt Priscilla had before her, and Aunt George and Aunt Fred talk about Leigh Jordan’s tarantula. It’s not fair.”

Nashira blinked. She had no idea who all those people were, but it was quite strange if people were allowed to bring things that weren’t on the list. “Surely some things must not be allowed. Why don’t they have a real list of what’s allowed, if you can have things that aren’t on the current one?” The kitten bit her thumb, and she looked down at it. “Don’t worry, I’m bringing you. I’m not going to change my mind and get a turtle or something now.”

The kid made a face. “Turtles are boring. Snakes would be boring too, but Uncle Harry can talk to them, which makes them more interesting.” They paused, and their hair turned grey. Nashira wasn’t sure if it would be rude to mention it, so she ignored it. “I’m Teddy. What’s your name?”

“Nashira.”

Their hair turned black. “That’s pretty. What are you going to name your cat?”

Nashira looked down at the kitten. “I’m not sure.”

“Teddy!” someone called from the front of the store. A man with messy black hair and glasses appeared from behind a shelf. “There you are. Did you forget what you were doing again?” He looked down at Nashira. “Or did you find someone more interesting than your old godfather to talk to?” He winked at Nashira. His eyes were bright green and friendly. 

Teddy’s hair turned red again. “Uncle Harry!”

“Don’t you Uncle Harry me, where are my snake treats?” 

Teddy held up the bag. “I got them! And then I ran into Nashira. We were talking about pets. She’s getting a kitten, and she says they should update the list if we’re allowed to bring other things like rats and tarantulas, and I know we are, because Leigh Jordan-”

The man laughed. “Never mind what Leigh Jordan brought. Your grandmother has put her foot down, as is her right. You may get an owl or a cat or a toad.” 

Teddy sighed. “But all of those are _boring_. Can’t I please get a kaleidoscopic chameleon?”

“The castle is too cold to keep a reptile healthy,” he said implacably. “Pick, or I’m buying you a toad like Neville- I mean, Professor Longbottom had. You could even name it Trevor.”

Teddy groaned. “Fiiiiine. I can use school owls and granny has Marvin. I’ll get a cat.” They brightened and their hair turned the pale color of the Siamese kitten. “Maybe it can be friends with Nashira’s cat!”

“Oh, is that your new friend’s name? I thought she might be a new kind of cat tower, since you didn’t introduce me.” 

Teddy’s hair turned red again. “Uncle Harry, this is Nashira. Nashira, this is my godfather, Harry Potter.” They seemed to expect some kind of reaction to their godfather’s name, but it was unfamiliar to Nashira. 

She smiled shyly up at the man. “Hello.”

He smiled back down at her. “Going to Hogwarts this year too?” Nashira nodded. “One of my best friends had a cat in school, and he was the most loyal pet anyone could ask for. Yours looks like she loves you already.” Nashira looked down to see that the kitten had wrapped its paws around her thumb and seemingly gone to sleep in her palm. She stroked its head gently with a finger, and it started purring. 

The blue-haired clerk appeared back around the shelf. “I lost you!” She looked at Teddy and his godfather. “But I see you’ve found interesting company. Did you need anything, Mr. Potter?”

“Just the snake snacks Teddy was meant to be getting me,” he said. “If you’re getting a cat, Teddy, go and pick one out.”

Teddy threw the bag of snake snacks at him and ran off towards the baskets. Mr. Potter snagged the bag out of the air casually, shaking his head. “Children. Anyway, Nashira, I take it you’re picking up things for your kitten?” He nodded at the bag of food floating behind her. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll just go make sure Teddy doesn’t manage to find a cat that’s been crossed with a blast-ended skrewt or something.”

Nashira nodded uncertainly as he walked off, then turned back to the clerk. “Sorry, I ran into Teddy, and they were apologizing-”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” the clerk smiled. “They’ll be in your year, won’t they? It’s good you’ve gotten the chance to meet one of your classmates.”

Nashira smiled back shyly. “I guess it is. They seemed nice.”

“Mr. Potter is one of our best customers,” the clerk said. “He spoils his snakes terribly, and every time we get a new breed he can’t resist picking one up. I can’t imagine what his house is like at this point, with runespoors and omen snakes everywhere.” The clerk shook their head. “Anyway, let’s find you that basket to take the kitten on the train in. You don’t want to lose her! We’ve got ones with runes worked in so you can set off a sleeping enchantment to keep her quiet for the trip, for a little extra.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Nashira said. “How long is the train trip?”

“Oh, hours and hours. It leaves at 11 o’clock in the morning, and gets to Hogwarts in the evening in time for dinner. You’ll want to bring food or money to buy something off the trolley.”

“Thank you,” Nashira said. “I’ve never ridden on a train before.”

The clerk grinned at her. “Find a good compartment - maybe with Teddy there. Lots of people make their first friends on the train. They say Mr. Potter met Rhonda Weasley and Hermione Granger on the train - and his husband Draco, too, though you shouldn’t worry about whether you’re meeting your spouse!”

Nashira’s eyes were wide. She’d never heard of any of those people, but meeting your husband on the first day of school?

The clerk ruffled her hair. “Don’t worry about it. Just find someone you’ll enjoy sitting with for hours.”

Nashira ducked her head, blushing. She wasn’t used to physical affection like that. The clerk was very nice.

“Tell you what,” the clerk added, “My baby sisters are starting Hogwarts this year too. I’ll tell them to look for you. They’re twins, so you can’t miss them - though their hair isn’t as interesting as mine. Their names are Leila and Farah. If you can’t find anyone else to sit with, or Teddy’s compartment is full, sit with them. They’re almost as cool as me, but don’t tell them I told you that. They’ll never let me live it down.”

Nashira smiled up at the clerk. They were very nice. Everyone she had met so far was very nice. She hoped everything about being a witch was this nice. “Thank you.”

The clerk paused then. “I’m Amal, I don’t think I ever said. What’s your name, so I can tell my sisters?”

“Nashira.”

“Oh, lovely! Be sure and show them your kitten, they’ll love her.” They picked up a basket and offered it to Nashira. “This is the one with the sleeping enchantments. We can swap out the cushion for another color, if you want.”

Nashira peeked inside and saw that the cushion was patterned with stars and planets. “No, I love it. I think I’m going to name her after a star. I bought a book of star names today, I’ll look through it when I get home.”

Amal grinned. “Just like yours, eh? You’ll be a matching set. Well, is there anything else you need, or shall I total you up at the counter?”

“I think that’s everything,” Nashira said. “I don’t know.” She looked back at Mildy. “Mildy, do you know what cats need? Am I missing anything?”

“Perhaps some treats, Miss Nashira,” Mildy said.

“Oh, of course!” Amal slapped their forehead. “Silly me. Let me grab you a bag of cat treats, then meet me at the counter, all right?”

Nashira nodded. “All right.” 

Mildy floated the basket out of Amal’s hands. They looked surprised, then laughed. “Guess I forgot to hand it to you. Thanks, Mildy.”

Mildy’s eyes widened, but she bobbed her head.

Nashira headed towards the counter, and Amal ran up behind it, out of breath, a few seconds later. They dropped a bag of cat treats on the counter, and Mildy floated everything else up there with it.

“Let me see,” Amal said. “That’s ten galleons for the basket, and two for the food, oh, and five for the kitten, and eight sickles for the treats, and ten knuts each for the toys, so that’s-”

“Nineteen galleons, nine sickles, and one knut,” Nashira said quietly, counting them out onto the counter.

“Oh, good on you! I’m terrible at maths, I was going to have to write it down, but you seem trustworthy.” Amal winked at her cheerfully.

“Wizard money seems harder to add up,” Nashira ventured. “A pound is just a hundred pennies, it’s easy.”

“I thought muggles had shillings and farthings and all sorts of things,” Amal said, then shrugged. “Nevermind, everyone knows the Muggle Studies textbooks are out of date.” They tucked everything into the basket, then wrapped it up in a sheet of paper and secured it with string, then tapped their wand on it, muttering something Nashira couldn’t make out. The package shrunk down by half. Amal frowned and repeated themselves, and it shrank down properly to palm size. “There you go, Nashira. Remember the Magical Menagerie when you need anything for your kitten!” they said, sounding like they were reciting something, then added, “And do come back and tell me what you name her.”

Nashira nodded. “I will, thank you.” She dropped the package into her purse and left the store with Mildy, ducking under a branch with a huge python wrapped around it.

When she made it out into the street, she looked down at Mildy. “I think that’s everything. Can we go look at the photo albums now?”

Mildy nodded enthusiastically. “If Miss Nashira will take Mildy’s hand, Mildy will take her back to the Villa Shafiq.”

Nashira detached one of her hands from the kitten, settling it firmly in the crook of her arm, and reached out her hand to take Mildy’s. There was an abrupt twisting sensation, and Diagon Alley vanished. 

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Easter eggs appearing in this chapter:
> 
>  _Keeping the Constant - a guide to non-hermaphroditic snail breeding_ : Appears in the HPDM fic Helix by Saras_Girl.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/3114812/chapters/6748463  
> Omen snakes: One appears in the Sacrifices Arc, by Lightning on the Wave, as Harry's pet.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/895946/Lightning-on-the-Wave
> 
> All easter eggs are added with the greatest affection for what they reference, and may be considered a recommendation for the work in question.


	4. House-elves and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nashira sees Villa Shafiq for the first time.

When Nashira’s eyes cleared, she found herself in an entrance hall tiled with beautiful patterns. “Welcome home, Miss Nashira,” Mildy said. A few seconds later, there was a cacophony of popping sounds, and four other house elves appeared in the room. All of them looked rather overcome.

“Young mistress!” cried one with vivid blue eyes. “Helsy was not thinking she would ever see you again! Helsy is so glad you are home!”

“Mildy is selfish, to not have called everyone else to see the young mistress,” one said grumpily. “Kirry will go and fetch the elves from the other properties. They has been waiting as long as we has.” He vanished with a loud pop.

The other three elves swarmed forward, seeming afraid to actually touch Nashira but wanting to be as close to her as possible. A few seconds later, another two elves popped in, and while they were introducing themselves, three more appeared. Kirry then reappeared with one last elf.

Several of the elves were weeping openly, and half of them were wringing their hands.

Nashira wanted to back away from all the confusion - so many people focused on her - but they were all so happy to see her that it seemed cruel to reject them. The kitten, having no such reservations, clawed its way up her shirt to sit on her shoulder and hiss fiercely at the strangers. She stroked it soothingly. “Shh, it’s all right.” She looked back up at the elves. “Um, hello. Please call me Nashira.”

“Young mistress is so kind,” cried one that Nashira thought had said her name was Gerty, “But it is not proper for elves to be referring to young mistress so informally!” The kitten dug its claws into her shoulder, and Nashira welcomed soothing it as a distraction from dealing with the elves.

“Mildy has agreed to call the young mistress Miss Nashira,” Mildy said. “Mistress Yasmin would not have minded, Mildy does not think. Mistress Yasmin was kind.”

Kirry shook his head. “Kirry will not. Kirry is a proper elf.”

Mildy glared at him. “Mildy has worked for the Shafiqs longer than Kirry has, and will thank him to remember that. If Miss Nashira says it is right, then it is proper.”

Kirry sniffed and turned up his nose. A younger-looking elf that Nashira thought had come in one of the later groups stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “Kirry doesn’t know how to appreciate good things. Bessy will call Miss Nashira that if Miss Nashira wishes.”

“Bessy,” said Kirry, “does not understand proper behavior, because she is too young to be sensible and should still be in the nursery.”

“Perhaps Kirry should be in retirement, if Kirry cannot accept orders from his mistress,” Bessy retorted.

Mildy snapped her fingers and a thunderclap echoed through the room. Nashira winced as the kitten half fell off her shoulder and clawed its way back up to a secure perch, back arched and fur puffed out. “Bessy and Kirry will stop their arguing in front of Miss Nashira! They is making us all look bad in our first impression.” She turned to Nashira. “Mildy is sorry, Miss Nashira. Bessy and Kirry is assigned to different houses to avoid this. Elves is usually more _respectful_ than this to mistresses and masters.” She shot a poisonous glare at Kirry, who sniffed again, but relented somewhat.

“Kirry is sorry, Young Mistress Nashira,” he said grudgingly.

“Bessy is sorry too, Miss Nashira, even if it wasn’t Bessy’s fault,” Bessy said primly, then winked at Nashira as soon as Mildy looked away. Nashira smiled at her. She liked Bessy already.

“Um, I wanted to see the photo albums,” Nashira said uncertainly. “I don’t know what my parents looked like.”

Several of the elves gasped in horror. Bessy looked suddenly determined. “Bessy is being right back, Miss Nashira. Bessy is getting albums from the Black houses of Master Regulus.” She looked at Mildy. “Is it being all right if Bessy invites the Black elves to come see Miss Nashira? They has been waiting almost as long as we has.”

Mildy nodded. “That is only fair, if you is getting albums from Black houses, that Black elves gets to see Miss Nashira too.” She turned to Nashira as Bessy disappeared with a pop. “If Miss Nashira will follow Mildy, Mildy will take her to the family parlor where the albums are, and the family tapestry.”

“Tapestry?” Nashira asked, following Mildy up the stairs.

“Yes, Miss Nashira, with the family tree. The Black tapestry is having many names burned off of it, but the Shafiqs remember their blood even when they do not approve.”

“Oh, like the family tree Lagrak made to confirm my identity,” Nashira said.

Mildy nodded. “Very like, Miss Nashira. It shows all of the Shafiqs and their spouses and children. It traces down, not up like one made just for Miss Nashira.” She stopped in front of a door made of warm-looking wood, with a subtle swirling pattern carved into it. “This is being the family parlor, Miss Nashira.” She opened the door and gestured for Nashira to precede her inside. 

Nashira stepped hesitantly through the door and looked around. The walls were draped in rich teal fabric, and the furniture was beautifully crafted of the same wood as the door. There was a crackling fire burning in the fireplace, even though it was summer. Somehow it didn’t make the room uncomfortably warm, just welcoming and cozy. There was a plush couch in a vivid jewel tone purple in front of the fireplace, and next to it was a bookshelf full of leather-bound books with dates and names stamped on the spines in elegant gold lettering. Some of them were in a script Nashira couldn’t read, but was pretty sure was Arabic.

Mildy hurried over to the bookshelf and started pulling out albums. Some of them were labeled ‘Amani Halima’, some ‘Yasmin Amani’, and one said ‘Nashira Yasmin’. That one was the slimmest, and the leather looked newer. Mildy floated them all over to the intricately designed openwork iron coffee table in front of Nashira. “Here is being the albums, Miss Nashira. The pictures is all being labeled.”

Nashira sat down on the couch, then reached out and picked up the first dated one with her mother’s name and opened it. 

She was confronted with picture after picture of a laughing toddler, running in and out of frame, waving a stick imperiously, hugging a stuffed dragon, hands full of dirt and laughing.

“Mildy, the pictures are moving,” she said uncertainly.

“Of course, Miss Nashira. Are muggle pictures not moving?”

Nashira shook her head. “Not on paper.”

Mildy shrugged. “All wizarding pictures are moving.”

Nashira stared at the pictures of the little girl with familiar eyes. She could hardly bear to turn the page away from them, but if she didn’t she would never see the others. She turned the page. Here, a toddler with curling black hair frowned seriously at the pages of a book she held upside-down. Here, she chased after the stuffed dragon, which was being levitated by a kind-looking man with a full beard and twinkling eyes. Here, a woman with a thick black braid down past her hips held the toddler up and spun her through the air. 

The pages blurred in front of her as Nashira turned them, and she realized that she was crying. This was her mother, her grandfather, her grandmother, her family. They were gone now, but they had existed, and they had left things behind for her to know them by. 

She was distracted from her thoughts by the kitten bracing itself against her neck to lick her cheek comfortingly. It made her smile despite herself, even though the kitten’s tongue was very rough and it hurt a little. She really needed to find a name for it.

She finished looking through that album, absently petting the kitten with her free hand, seeing the toddler grow up into a taller child more steady on her feet, with hair falling past her shoulders. She had just opened the next when Bessy appeared in the room with a pop, immediately followed by a cavalcade of other pops from a legion of new house elves. The Black family elves, presumably. The kitten puffed up intimidatingly again and its claws dug into her much-abused shoulder.

Nashira looked up at them nervously. “Um, hello.”

“Young mistress is truly here!” cried one of the older-looking elves, looking exulted. “Her blood is true! Our wait is over!”

“Please call me Nashira,” she said uncomfortably.

“Of course, Mademoiselle Nashira,” said a younger elf with deep green eyes and a slight accent. “Do not mind Kreacher. He was devoted to your father.”

“You knew my father?”

Kreacher nodded vigorously. “Master Regulus was a true son of the house of Black. Mistress Walburga was proud of him - not like his blood traitor brother,” he added with a snarl.

The younger elf rolled her eyes tolerantly. “Maître Regulus was a good young man, and we have missed our heir these long years. Seigneur Potter tried to take possession of the estate, as he was Maître Sirius’s heir, but the wards knew, and we knew, that he was not the true heir to the family, even if he was Maîtresse Dorea’s grandson. Maître Sirius was not Maître Regulus’s heir, you were, and Maître Regulus was the last true heir to the house of Black.”  
Kreacher was staring at her hands, and Nashira shifted the album uncomfortably. His eyes sharpened. “Kreacher must see the Heir ring.”

Nashira bit her lip nervously - Kreacher was very intense - but she held out her right hand, with the two heir rings on it.

Kreacher reached out his hand and ran a long bony finger over the crest of the house of Black. “The wards are happy. The family survives. Your blood is pure, young mistress.”

To Nashira’s great relief, Bessy hurried over and pulled Kreacher back. “Give Miss Nashira her space, Kreacher. Look at her, she isn’t being comfortable being crowded.”

Kreacher looked up at Nashira with filmy eyes and nodded. “Of course. We are beneath the young mistress, it is not being proper for us to bother her.” He vanished with a pop.

The younger Black elf sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. I am Verdant, Mademoiselle Nashira. I am one of the elves assigned to Bijou, the Black family property in France.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Nashira said.

Verdant smiled. “You are very kind, Mademoiselle Nashira. But we have the album, here. Thankfully someone took it from Kreacher.” She held out a book bound in green leather with silver printing spelling out ‘Regulus Arcturus Black 1961-1979’ on the cover. Nashira reached out and took it reverently. It felt colder than the Shafiq albums, but she pushed aside her mother’s album and opened her father’s regardless.

The first page showed a squirming black-haired infant in a christening gown, with a yellowing article cut from a newspaper of a birth announcement pinned to the opposite page.

The page after that showed a solemn toddler on the lap of a woman with a severe face and steel-grey hair. A man with hard eyes stood behind her, with a warning hand on the shoulder of an older child who shifted rebelliously. The labels at the bottom of the page indicated that this was Regulus’s brother Sirius, who Verdant had mentioned. He would have been her uncle, but if someone had been his heir, then he was dead too.

She flipped forward. All of the pictures in this album were formal portraits, stiff and composed, much less friendly than the casual everyday pictures of her mother as a child. The kitten seemed to be bored as well, and ventured off of her shoulder, climbing along the back of the couch to sniff everything.

She paused halfway in, on a picture of Regulus standing proud in new school robes that looked just like the ones she had bought today, holding what must have been a brand new wand. Robes - she hadn’t gone back to pick up her robes!

“Mildy,” she said urgently, “We never went back to Madam Malkin’s! I forgot to get my robes!”

Mildy turned and looked at the clock. “It is not being terribly late, Miss Nashira. They will still be open. Mildy will be going to pick them up, and Bessy will help Miss Nashira to find a room to put her trunk and things in.”

Bessy hurried forward. “Bessy can be bringing the albums along with us, Miss Nashira, so you can look at them again later.”

Nashira shook her head. “I think I’d like to keep looking at them here, when I do. This is a lovely room.”

“Of course, Miss Nashira. Bessy will show you to the bedrooms.”

Nashira reached over to the end of the couched and scooped up the kitten. She looked around. “Um, where _is_ my trunk?”

“Mildy was leaving it in the entrance hall, Miss Nashira, to wait for you to pick a room. Bessy will bring it to you when you have picked one.”

Nashira nodded. “All right. Um, lead the way?” She felt awkward ignoring all of the Black elves, but they seemed to realize that the time for meeting her was over, and as she followed Bessy out of the room, she heard the popping sounds of them disappearing behind her, presumably back to all of the other houses she owned.

It was still a little dizzying to think that she _owned_ all these things. She felt better if she thought of them as belonging to her families, and she was just allowed to use them. She didn’t need nine houses and billions of pounds and a dozen house elves, she was just one girl!

Both families must have been huge, to have used so many houses of such size. It was a little scary to think that she was all that was left. Two huge families, old families, and it all came down to her.

Nashira looked up at the arching ceiling of the hallway as she walked and felt very small. She wasn’t sure there was enough of her to carry all that history. She was only eleven.

There was a sharp pain in her wrist, and she looked down to see the kitten had bitten her. She giggled a little wetly. It seemed the kitten wouldn’t let her get wrapped up in melancholy. “Thank you,” she told it. “I’ll find you a wonderful name, I promise. Something that shows that you’re a part of the family with me. Then there’ll be two of us.”

Bessy cleared her throat. “This is being the hall with the bedrooms, Miss Nashira.” She nodded at the double doors at the end of the hall. “That is being the Master bedroom suite, where Mistress Amani and Master Jabir lived. Mistress Yasmin would have moved into it, had she lived.” She gave Nashira a shrewd look. “Miss Nashira is the Heir and only remaining member of the family, and has every right to use it, but Bessy thinks Miss Nashira might prefer something a little smaller for now.”

Nashira nodded, her eyes wide. A _suite_? “I don’t even have my own bedroom at the Home,” she said helplessly.

“The Home?” Bessy asked. “Where has Miss Nashira been living all these years?”

“It’s an orphanage. A, um, muggle one, I guess. Saint Anne’s Home for Girls. I was a foundling, so.”

Bessy looked horrified. “Miss Nashira has been living with muggles and has not even had her own room for eleven years, when Miss Nashira has nine houses and over a dozen house elves she is rightful heir to? Bessy would not have had the raising of Miss Nashira, Gerty was the nursery elf, but Miss Nashira should have been _home!_ ”

Nashira shook her head helplessly. “I had no idea, Bessy. I didn’t even know my parents’ names until today.”

Bessy’s jaw firmed. “Miss Nashira will follow Bessy now, and Bessy will show her Mistress Yasmin’s bedroom, so she can see where her mother lived.”

Nashira’s eyes widened. “It’s- her things are still there?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira. She took some of them to the flat on Grove Lane, but her childhood things are all still here. No one would have cleared out her room for someone else to use.” She paused. “Mistress Amani and Master Jabir’s things were moved out of the Master suite and into storage, but that is different. The Master suite is special. It was being prepared for Mistress Yasmin or Miss Nashira to move into it.”

Bessy led the way down the hall to a room with a silver plate on the door, much like the one on the trunk, only this one was polished and clear, the letters spelling out ‘Yasmin Amani Shafiq’ easy to read. This one also had more of the letters Nashira thought were Arabic underneath it. She supposed that probably was her mother’s name as well.

Before she could consider the nameplate any longer, Bessy pushed open the door, and Nashira caught her breath. She had lost track of where in the house she was in relation to the front door or any of the outer walls - it was so _big_ , it was hard to keep track - but they had evidently reached an outer wall, because opposite the door was a huge bay window with a windowseat piled with cushions. Vines trailed down around the edges of the windowpanes, kept neatly back from obscuring the view but still allowed to thrive. 

The cushions were a haphazard assortment in a dozen or more styles and colors, in different shapes and fabrics. Most of them looked like normal pillows, as Nashira thought of such, with invisible stitching and everything symmetrical, but a few of them were lopsided with bright threads peeking out of the seams. Nashira reached out her hand to touch one, having walked across the room without realizing it. 

Bessy spoke up behind her. “Mistress Yasmin insisted on sewing all of the cushions herself. It took her some time to get the hang of the sewing charms. Gerty was scandalized, but Mistress Amani was quite firm that Mistress Yasmin be allowed to learn to do things herself if she wishes, even if an elf could do them for her more quickly.”

Nashira ran her fingers over the cushion. There was no dust on it, and it wasn’t faded with age - it seemed the house elves took perfect care of her mother’s room, preserving it just as she left it. Her mother had touched this, had _made_ this.

The kitten miaoued at her imperiously and leapt off of her other arm and into the windowseat. The cushion it landed on shifted, and it was buried in pillows with a surprised squeak. Nashira smiled and dug it out. The reverent spell was broken, and she could see this as just a room now. A special one, but not a shrine.

She turned to the right, away from the window, to see that the entire wall was covered in bookcases. Her eyes widened. “I guess she didn’t leave all of her books in the trunk for me,” she whispered.

“Oh, the trunk!” Bessy cried. “Bessy will be right back with it, and will bring it with us until Miss Nashira picks a room.”

Nashira nodded absently and stepped forward, staring at the books. There were so many, and nearly all of them she’d never heard of before. Some of them looked slightly familiar, like perhaps she’d seen them on the shelves at Flourish and Blott’s, but she couldn’t swear to it. 

Some of them were bound in leather, some in cloth, and some of them were ordinary-looking paperbacks. Some of the paperbacks looked like things she’d seen at the library. On one shelf near the windowseat, the books looked the most worn. The paperbacks had cracked spines, and and the cloth-bound hardbacks were faded, with missing threads. 

Nashira ran her fingers over the spines reverently and picked up one with a spine so cracked it was no longer readable. The worn cover proclaimed that it was _The Finn Family Moonmintroll_ , by Tove Jansson. She blinked hard, her eyes burning. This was one of her favorite books, she had lost track of how many times she’d checked it out of the library before she finally bought her own copy - and it appeared it had been one of her mother’s favorites as well. 

“Hello, mum,” she whispered. “I didn’t get to know you, but we still grew up the same.”

She sniffled, her eyes filling, and dropped blindly onto the windowseat. The kitten climbed into her lap and up her shirt to lick her cheek again, and she petted it with the hand that wasn’t holding the book. It started purring, a strong rumbling like rocks in a pepper grinder, and she buried her face in its fur.

“I have a family,” she whispered to the kitten. “I have a home. I belong. I’m not strange, I’m like my mother. I had a mother, and I’m like she was. We loved the same books. She gave me her name. I belong.”

The kitten twisted around and licked her eyelid, and Nashira giggled.

There was a cough from the door, and she turned to see Bessy standing there with the trunk, looking uncertain. “I is being sorry to disturb you, Miss Nashira, but Mildy is being back with your robes, and she is wanting to know whether you’ve picked a room.”

Nashira looked out the window into a courtyard with a fountain and a huge bed of jasmine flowers. She smiled. “If it’s all right, Bessy, I think I’ll stay here. My mother and I seem to have liked many of the same things.”

“Of course, Miss Nashira,” Bessy said. “This is being the Heir’s room, it would properly be yours anyway, but Bessy was not sure if Miss Nashira would want to stay in Mistress Yasmin’s room or not.”

Nashira smiled down at the mismatched cushions all around her. “I like it. It makes me feel like I know her better.” The kitten miaoued loudly in agreement.

Bessy nodded and gestured with one hand. The dragonhide trunk floated over to land at the foot of the bed. Nashira hadn’t paid attention to that half of the room before, so she walked over to look at the bed. It was huge, bigger than any bed she’d ever seen, easily four times the size of her little bed at the Home, if not more. It had heavy purple velvet curtains tied back with silver ropes, and it was covered in a patchwork quilt made of as joyfully mismatched a selection of fabrics as the cushions.

Nashira ran her hand over the quilt. It was worn and soft, but all of the seams were strong and the colors were still bright. Her mother had clearly loved colors. She sat down on the edge of the bed experimentally and sank down into it with a squeak of surprise, tipping over backwards. She hadn’t realized a bed could be so _soft_. Her bed at the Home was thin and hard, with springs poking up uncomfortably. This bed felt like a cloud.

Lying on her back in the bed, she could see up into the underside of the canopy above her, and she gasped. It was covered in flowers in dozens of colors. It didn’t look like paint or embroidery - it was _glowing_. It must be some kind of magic. And it was _beautiful_. Nashira stared up into the flowers, hugging the kitten. This room felt like _home_. Like she was meant to be here, and she’d just been waiting all her life to find it.

Blinking hard, she sat up and walked around the end of the bed and the trunk to explore the other side of the room. There was a huge wardrobe and a chest of drawers as tall as she was, in a rich wood that matched a vanity and mirror next to them. The vanity had a beautiful set of brushes and combs with silver handles resting on it, and an assortment of bottles of perfume.

Next to the vanity was a doorway with a curtain of colorful glass beads blocking it off. Nashira pushed through it, smiling at the soft tinkling sounds the beads made against each other, and discovered a huge bathroom. There was a long counter with a copper bowl set on top of it, with taps above it that must mean it was a sink. The floor was beautifully painted tiles that were warm under her feet. There was a toilet in a nook in the corner, and a shower so big she could spread her arms out as far as she could and still not touch the sides. 

The bathtub was practically a swimming pool. It was set into the floor, and made of shining hammered copper like the sink, but enormous. It had a dozen taps around the edge, and an assortment of glass bottles sitting nearby. Nashira noted with relief that there were steps worked into the side - she didn’t think she’d be able to climb out of it once she got in, otherwise, and how ridiculous would she feel if she had to call a house elf to help her get out of the bathtub? 

The bathroom was nice, and she’d look more closely at all of the bottles of things later, but the main room was much more interesting.

Nashira pushed back through the bead curtain, and caught sight of an elaborately worked brass clock on the opposite wall. She gasped. “It’s six o’clock! I’ve got to get back to the Home!”

Mildy turned away from the wardrobe, where she was hanging up the robes, and looked at Nashira in confusion. “Why would Miss Nashira need to go back somewhere else? Miss Nashira lives here.”

Nashira shook her head. “I can’t just disappear, Mildy! They’ll call the police, and I’d be a missing person and I’d never be able to show my face in the muggle world again, and I still need to buy things there, and-” The kitten interrupted her by miaouing loudly and biting her finger.

Bessy stepped forward. “You don’t want to go back forever, right Miss Nashira?”

“No, of course not. I love this room, I want to live here, in the home my family lived in. I just can’t stay here forever right now. Mildy, if you take me back to Gringotts tomorrow, I can ask them if they know how I can deal with making sure I’m not a missing person in the muggle world, or if they know anyone who can help. But I have to go back to the Home to sleep tonight, I really do, even if I wish I could sleep in this amazing bed instead.” She bit her lip. “I’m going to be late for dinner again if I don’t get back soon, and Miss Brenna will worry. They give me a lot of slack, letting me go to the library all day, but they could get into a lot of trouble if I disappeared when I was off by myself. They don’t deserve that, they try really hard to take care of us, even if there are a lot more orphans than there are people to watch us.”

Mildy sighed. “Very well, Miss Nashira. You is calling Mildy tomorrow, and Mildy is taking you to Gringotts, and clever goblins is helping you find out how to not have to live somewhere you is not even having your own bedroom. It’s shameful, that our heir has been living in such conditions.”

Nashira looked down at the kitten. “She’ll have to stay here, I can’t possibly take her back to the Home.” She reached into her purse and fished out the package from Magical Menagerie and dropped it onto the bed. “You can make sure she has food and somewhere to go to the bathroom, can’t you Mildy? I’m sorry, kitten,” she added. “I haven’t even found your name yet. I promise I will tomorrow.”

Mildy sighed, sounding long-suffering, and Bessy stepped forward. “Bessy will be taking care of Miss Nashira’s kitten while Mildy is taking Miss Nashira back to the orphanage for the night.” She shot a sideways glance at Mildy. “Bessy will also see if she can be transferred to Villa Shafiq to help Miss Nashira.”

Mildy shook her head. “No, it is not being fair if only some Shafiq elves is getting to serve Miss Nashira. We is having to rotate through the house where Miss Nashira is, so everyone gets a chance. Bessy will get her turn with everyone else.”

“And Mildy will always be here?” Bessy asked, sounding affronted. “This is not even Mildy’s assigned home!”

Mildy sighed. “Mildy will rotate too.”

Nashira’s eyes widened. “Please, can I have at least one or the other of you here no matter what? I feel more comfortable with the two of you than the other elves.” She bit her lip, then added, “Especially Kirry. Please don’t leave me alone with Kirry.”

“Bessy is promising not to leave Miss Nashira alone with Kirry!” Bessy declared.

“ _Mildy_ will be making sure she is always here when Kirry is,” Mildy interjected. “Bessy can be being here when Kirry is not. It is shameful, how Bessy and Kirry fight, and not fit to be in front of Miss Nashira.”

Bessy frowned, but nodded. When Mildy turned away from her and back to Nashira, Bessy grinned and winked. Nashira smiled back. She was glad Bessy was on her side.

“So you’ll take me back to the Home now?” Nashira asked Mildy.

Mildy nodded. “As Miss Nashira insists.” She held her hand out for Nashira to take.

Nashira put her hand in Mildy’s, then paused. “How will you find it? Lagrak took me to Gringotts, you’ve never been there.”

“Now that Miss Nashira has been accepted by the wards and bonds, elves is being able to feel where she is, and where she has been. Mildy can feel where Miss Nashira has spent most of her time. There is being two places, one a little stronger than the other.”

Nashira blinked in confusion. “I suppose one of them is the library. The Home is probably the stronger one, since I spend more time there? Since I’m not at the library all day during the school year.”

Mildy nodded. “Mildy will take Miss Nashira there.”

“Wait!” Nashira cried. “Are you just going to pop us into the middle of the building, with all the people, I mean muggles, around? They’d notice! I need to be out on the street so I can go inside.”

Mildy looked affronted. “Of course, Miss Nashira. Mildy would never apparate somewhere where muggles could be seeing her.”

“Sorry, Mildy, I didn’t know.”

Mildy relented and smiled at her. “Miss Nashira is being too kind.”

There was a twisting sensation, and Nashira’s new bedroom, her mother’s bedroom, disappeared. After a long moment, it was replaced by a slightly grubby street. Nashira looked around and groaned. “We’re outside the library.”

Mildy looked surprised. “This is being the place that Miss Nashira considered the most her home.”

“I suppose I do. Did,” she said quietly. “The Home is just somewhere to sleep and eat. Books are a lot more like home than girls who try and trip me when I’m carrying food.”

Mildy looked horrified. “Mildy cannot leave Miss Nashira with people who hurt her!”

Nashira kicked herself internally. “No, Mildy, they don’t! They haven’t bothered me in ages, because their milk kept tipping over into their laps, or they’d get static shocked, or their shoelaces would come untied and they’d trip as soon as they got up. They decided it wasn’t worth it.” She paused. “Is that magic, that that happened?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira. That is being accidental magic, which children do before they get a wand and go to school.”

“Please, Mildy, I have to go back to the Home. If you won’t take me there, I’ll walk and be late for dinner.”

Mildy sighed. “Only tonight, Miss Nashira. Mildy will not accept it a day longer. It is being awful, how Miss Nashira has been having to live, while she has houses and houses and house elves waiting for her.”

“I promise, Mildy, we’ll go to Gringotts tomorrow and I’ll ask Lagrak what to do. I’m sure he’ll have some idea, or be able to tell me who would know.”

Mildy’s mouth was set in a sour line, but she snapped her fingers, and the street disappeared with a twisting feeling again. The world reappeared around them in the form of an alley next to a rubbish bin. Nashira stepped out of it and looked up and down the street, then sighed in relief. “The Home is just up the street. I promise, Mildy, I’ll call you tomorrow just as soon as I get away from people.”

Mildy nodded unhappily, and watched Nashira walk all the way to the gates of the Home before disappearing with a pop.

Nashira hurried up the long driveway. She was late for dinner, the second day in a row. The purse jingled as she broke into a half-run, and she looked down at it in distress. She couldn’t let anyone see that. She yanked it off and stuffed it into her backpack and zipped it back up, then ran in to the dormitory and dropped it on her bed and scurried off to the dining hall.

It wasn’t Miss Brenna at the door today, it was Mrs. Brown, and she glared disapprovingly at Nashira when she pushed open the door.

“What kind of time do you call this, Miss Black?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brown, I lost track of time-”

“At the library, of course you did.” She frowned. “You are allowed privileges, Miss Black, but you must earn them. If you cannot return home in a timely manner, you will not be allowed out unescorted.”

Nashira’s eyes widened. “It won’t happen again, I promise!”

Mrs. Brown sniffed disapprovingly. “See that it doesn’t.” She turned away to stare at a group of girls giggling at the nearest table.

Nashira hurried to grab a tray and plate and get some food. There weren’t any potatoes left, so she just got a large scoop each of creamed spinach and baked beans and a sad square of slightly floppy toast to carry back to the table with her glass of milk. She demolished the food in short order, thinking wistfully of palak paneer in Diagon Alley.

When she finished, she returned her tray and plate, then slipped off to bed. It was early, but it had been a very long day.

  



	5. A Solicitor and a Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nashira wakes in St. Anne's for the last time.

Nashira woke up in the same bed she had woken up in for the last five years, with the same crick in her back and the same watery grey sunlight filtering in through the curtains. She blinked up at the ceiling. Had she really discovered she had magic and a family and houses yesterday, or had it all been a dream?

The scratchy sheets felt very real. She sat up and looked at her backpack. If the silver purse was still in it, then it had been real. If the silver purse wasn’t there, then it had been a dream. She pulled the backpack into her lap and unzipped it.

With a quiet tinkle of chainmail, the silver purse fell out. She hurriedly shoved it back in, glancing around to make sure no one else had seen. All of the other girls were asleep. She always woke up earliest.

It had been real. It was real, and her mother’s things were real, and as soon as she could leave the Home today, she could go back. She practically ran to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Once she had gotten herself cleaned up and presentable, she made her way to the front door and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Miss Brenna watching it again today, and not Mrs. Brown.

“Bye, Miss Brenna,” she said, feeling like she should say goodbye somehow, in case she never came back.

Miss Brenna smiled at her. “Make sure you keep track of time today, young lady!”

Nashira nodded, feeling guilty. “I will.”

She hurried down the driveway and into the same alley where Mildy had brought her last night. She called out uncertainly, “Mildy?”

There was a loud pop and Mildy appeared in front of her, looking enormously relieved. “Miss Nashira!” Milsy grabbed her hand, and before another moment could pass, they reappeared in the entrance hall of the Villa Shafiq.

Nashira blinked for several seconds, getting her bearings. “That was sudden.”

“It was not proper, to have Miss Nashira stay any longer in such a place,” Mildy said primly. 

Nashira sighed. “Can we go to Gringotts now?”

Mildy frowned. “Would Miss Nashira like to be changing first?” She eyed Nashira’s uniform skirt disapprovingly.

“If I have to go back into the muggle world to sort this out, I’ll look strange if I’m wearing robes,” Nashira pointed out.

“Mistress Amani and Mistress Yasmin had many lovely dresses,” Mildy offered.

“What if I have to go back to the orphanage for paperwork or something? They’ll want to know where I got the clothes.” She shook her head.

“At least an overrobe while we are in Diagon Alley,” Mildy pleaded. “Mildy can be holding it for Miss Nashira if she is needing to look like a muggle again.” 

Nashira sighed. “Oh, all right.”

Mildy brightened and snapped her fingers. A rich purple robe, like the ones in the new-style school uniforms, appeared in her hand. “This was being Mistress Yasmin’s when she was Miss Nashira’s age.”

Nashira eyed it dubiously. “Won’t my regular clothes look even worse compared to it?”

Mildy frowned at her polo shirt and pleated skirt, then snapped her fingers. There was a feeling like a sudden blast of steam, and all at once both shirt and skirt were pristinely clean and mended, the pleats on the skirt sharp and both looking almost starched.

Mildy nodded, looking almost satisfied. “That is being better. Miss Nashira will look fine.”

Nashira took the robe, then took off her backpack and shrugged into it. The material was cool and soft, and slid pleasantly across her skin. She felt special just wearing it. She fished the silver purse out of her backpack and put it on, then looked down at the worn backpack. “Can I leave this in my room, Mildy?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira.” Mildy snapped her fingers and the backpack vanished. “If Mildy might be saying, Miss Nashira, Mistress Yasmin usually wore her purse under her overrobe.”

Nashira looked down at it. It did rather cut into the flowing lines of the robe. “All right.” She pulled off the purse and robe, then put them back on in reverse order. She looked up at Mildy. “Am I presentable?”

Mildy nodded. “Mildy will take Miss Nashira to Gringotts now. We will be landing outside the doors. House elves cannot be apparating into the bank without permission.”

Mildy took Nashira’s hand, there was a twisting, and the entrance hall disappeared and was replaced by the marble front steps of Gringotts.

Nashira walked up them, looking around. She hadn’t gotten to see much of the front of the bank, with how she’d gone in before. There was a huge set of burnished bronze doors, attended by a goblin in a scarlet and gold uniform, who nodded at Nashira and Mildy as they went through.

Beyond the bronze doors was a silver set of doors with words engraved into them that Nashira hadn’t seen on her way out yesterday:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

She blinked at the poem for a moment, then shrugged. She certainly had no intentions of stealing anything here - she hardly needed to!

She made her way through the silver doors and over to a counter where a goblin wasn’t currently busy. “Excuse me, can I speak to Account Manager Lagrak, please?”

The goblin looked at her appraisingly, then nodded. It disappeared behind a door, and several moments later, it reappeared with Lagrak behind it.

Lagrak grinned at her. “Heir Shafiq-Black. Welcome back. What may we do for you today?”

“I’m not sure if you’re the right person to ask, Account Manager Lagrak, but I don’t know who else might know better than you. I need to have something sorted out legally so the muggle orphanage I grew up in doesn’t report me as a missing person when I leave to go live in my properties. Do you know what I need to do, or who I could ask that would know?”

Lagrak laughed. “I wondered if you might need assistance with that! Worry not, Heir Shafiq-Black, Gringotts has many solicitors on retainer, and several of them have credentials in the muggle world as well. I will contact one, and she will arrange things for you.”

“Come, follow me this way and I will take you to where I can contact them.” Lagrak opened a concealed door in the counter and Nashira stepped through with Mildy behind her. She followed Lagrak through the amze of hallways that was Gringotts until they reached a large anteroom with several couches and a huge fireplace set into one wall. Lagrak gestured to a couch. “If you will make yourself comfortable here, Heir Shafiq-Black, I will contact the solicitor for you.”

Nashira nodded and sat down on the cough, nervously smoothing the silky purple fabric of her overrobe. She had never net a solicitor before.

Lagrak took a handful of powder from a pot on the mantle and cast it into the fireplace. The flames turned green, and he called out “Stone and Crusher’s!” then stuck his head into it. Nashira squeaked in surprise and pressed her hands to her mouth. He didn’t seem to be actually on fire in any way. Were goblins fireproof, or was it because of the powder that had turned the flames green?

Lagrak stayed like that for several minutes, before pulling his head back out and shaking soot out of his ears as the fire returned to its normal color. “Stone and Crusher are busy, but they have a young muggleborn solicitor they are grooming to join their firm, and she said she would be happy to take the case. She should be through any moment.”

As he finished speaking, the flames flared green again and a woman in severe black robes stepped out of the fire and into the room. She had brown hair pinned back into a severe bun, but her eyes were friendly.

“Hello, I’m solicitor Eva Shale. You must be Heir Shafiq-Black.” She held her hand out to Nashira, who stood and shook it nervously. “I hear you have a problem with an orphanage. Lagrak briefed me on the generalities, but you know your situation best, so why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Well, I was raised as a foundling in a muggle orphanage, solicitor Shale,” Nashira said quietly. “I didn’t know I was a witch or the heir to anything until two days ago.” She held up her right hand with the Heir rings. “I have houses now, and I’d like to live in one of them, but I don’t think I can just tell the Home that I have my own house now, and if I just left I’d be reported as a runaway or a missing person, and the police would be looking for me, and I’d never be able to show my face in ordinary stores again.”

“Call me Eva, please,” she said. “And yes, of course. They’ll want to see a guardian for you, if you’re to be taken away. I don’t suppose you have any living family left?”

Nashira shook her head. “Not that I know of. My parents are dead, and my grandparents.”

The solicitor looked at Mildy. “Do you have any objections to being placed until a glamour to look like a human to pretend to be her new guardian? I would come with you to present the paperwork, you would only have to be there and look like a responsible adult.”

Mildy frowned. “It seems improper, but if it is what is needed for Miss Nashira to live where she belongs... Could another elf do it?” 

Eva nodded. “Of course.”

“Miss Nashira, if you is calling Verdant of the Black elves, she is French and better suited to such improprieties. Bessy would be willing, Mildy is sure, but Bessy is not needing to have such ideas in her head.”

Nashira blinked, surprised, but nodded. “All right.” She looked over at Lagrak. “May I call another elf? Mildy said elves can only apparate into Gringotts with permission.”

Lagrak grinned widely. “Of course, Heir Shafiq-Black.”

“Um, Verdant?” Nashira asked the air, feeling silly. There was a loud pop, and Verdant appeared in front of her.

“Mademoiselle Nashira! You need Verdant?” She looked around. “We are in Gringotts?”

Nashira nodded. “Yes. Um, this solicitor is helping me get legally out of the orphanage where I grew up so the muggle police won’t be looking for me when I leave, so I can go live in my properties. She needs someone to pretend to be an adult adopting me. Mildy says it’s improper and she doesn’t want to do it, but you might?”

Verdant laughed. “I can guess why. But oui, I am willing. We had no idea Mademoiselle Nashira was living in such conditions, or we would have scoured the world for you.” She looked terrifyingly intense for a moment, then relaxed back into a smile so quickly that Nashira wasn’t sure the other expression has ever been there at all. “I would be happy to assist in freeing Mademoiselle Nashira so she can live where she belongs. I hope you will come to visit Bijou soon, Mademoiselle Nashira. I am perhaps biased, but I think it is the most beautiful of the Black properties, the jewel it is named.”

Nashira nodded uncertainly. “Of course. I want to see all of my properties. I want to be able to give them enough time to get to know them as they deserve.” She grimaced. “I don’t know if I’ll have enough time this summer, before term starts at Hogwarts. I don’t suppose I can leave on the weekends.”

Verdant looked sly. “Students at Hogwarts can leave with a guardian’s permission, Mademoiselle Nashira. You have none such, except perhaps an elf in the guise of a muggle adopting you.” Nashira giggled. “And besides, they cannot stop house elves coming in to Hogwarts, or it would grind to a halt. Any of us could bring you to any of your homes at any time. You need not feel trapped in Hogwarts, Mademoiselle Nashira.”

Nashira smiled at her. “Thank you, Verdant.” 

She looked back at Eva, who grinned. “I didn’t hear a word about possibly bending the rules and sneaking out of the castle.” She pulled a wand out of her sleeve and flicked it at Verdant, who suddenly appeared to be a tall and striking woman with black hair and intense green eyes, wearing a sensible muggle pantsuit. Eva looked down at herself and flicked her wand again, transforming her black robes into a neat black suit and tie. “There we are, very respectable.” She looked at Nashira. “You might want to take your overrobe off.”

Nashira scrambled to shrug out of it and hand it to Mildy. She looked down doubtfully at her purse. “Can you just make this look more ordinary? I don’t like not having it with me.”

Eva flicked her wand again, and the purse was simple black canvas. Nashira touched it to reassure herself, and could still feel cool metal sliding beneath her fingertips. “If we’re all ready, then, Mildy, will you take us to the orphanage?”

“Don’t we need paperwork or something?” Nashira asked.

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Eva said, producing a sheaf of papers out of her briefcase for a moment. “I have everything we need here. I brought the paperwork for any of the eventualities that could have been covered by what Lagrak said. I’ll sort out all the computerized records when I get back to the office, including having you officially transferred to the Hovarth School for the Gifted in Scotland. We’ll get it all squared away, don’t you worry.”

Nashira nodded, wide-eyed. “All right.”

Mildy snapped her fingers, and there was a twisting sensation. The anteroom in Gringotts disappeared, and they reappeared in the alley outside the Home again. 

“Mildy will wait here,” Mildy said firmly. “Miss Nashira will come back here when solicitoring is finished, and Mildy will take her home where she belongs.” Nashira nodded.

Eva straightened her tie and faced the gates of the home. “Here we go! Let me do all the talking.”

Nashira nodded uncertainly and followed after her, glancing out of the corners of her eyes at Verdant walking alongside. She looked like an ordinary human, but she carried herself just slightly oddly. And she was walking a pace behind Nashira. Nashira wasn’t sure if that was where normal parents walked, but she supposed that Eva would tell her if she was doing something she shouldn’t be.

Eva strode confidently up the driveway and to the front doors, where she pushed the button of a doorbell that Nashira hadn’t even realized was there. Miss Brenna opened the door a few long moments later, looking somewhat confused, an expression that changed to concern when she saw Nashira standing there flanked by official-looking women in suits.

“Er, hello. Did Nashira do something wrong?”

Eva shook her head briskly. “No, no, of course not. I’m just here to get her finalized adoption paperwork signed.”

Miss Brenna stared at her. “Adoption? We haven’t heard anything about that for any of our girls, there are supposed to be home visits, and-”

Eva smiled brilliantly. “Oh, she hasn’t told you? I suppose she didn’t want to jinx it, hmm?” She looked over at Nashira.

“Oh, no. I mean yes. I was so worried it wouldn’t go through, and it didn’t seem quite real. It felt like talking about it would break it.”

Eva winked at her encouragingly and turned back to Miss Brenna. “The social workers have already checked and seen to everything, I’ve got all the paperwork here with me if you want to go over it, and then Emerald here can take Nashira home.”

Miss Brenna nodded uncertainly. “All right. I’ll just take you to the Matron’s office, she’ll make sure that everything is order.”

Eva turned to Nashira. “Why don’t you run and pack up your things, dear? Emerald can help you. I’ll come and fetch you once we have all the silly paperwork sorted out.”

Nashira nodded enthusiastically. The Matron was scary, and she was happy to avoid having to encounter her. “It’s this way, Emerald,” she said, leading Verdant off into the Eastern dormitory. It was still half-full at this hour, with some of the other girls finishing getting ready and some of them only just waking up. All of them stared at Nashira and ‘Emerald’ with undisguised curiosity, especially when Nashira started pulling her clothes out of her wardrobe and folding them on the bed.

Nashira looked at Verdant. “I’m not sure what to pack them in. I don’t have a suitcase. Can you go ask Miss Brenna for a cardboard box, or should I go?”

“You know her better, M- Nashira,” Verdant said quietly. She looked nervous.

Nashira nodded. “All right. I’ll be right back.” She ran out of the dormitory and to the door, where Miss Brenna was still waiting, looking shell-shocked. “Um, Miss Brenna, can I have a box to put my things in? Emerald forgot to bring a suitcase for me.”

Miss Brenna shook herself and looked down at Nashira. “All right. Is this why you’ve been so late for dinner the last few days?”

Nashira nodded guiltily. “Yes.” She didn’t like lying to Miss Brenna, who had always been kind to her, but it didn’t seem like it could be helped.

Miss Brenna sighed. “I wish you’d told me, but I can understand why you didn’t.” She leaned down and gave her a sudden hug. “I’ll miss you, you know. Come on, I think there are some boxes in the kitchen.”

She led the way down the hall and into the kitchen, where there was indeed a large box that potatoes had come in. Nashira had to knock a little dirt out of it, but it looked sturdy. 

“Thank you, Miss Brenna! I’d better get back now, I left Emerald there all alone.” She raced back to the dormitory before Miss Brenna could answer.

When she got back, every girl in the room was still staring at Verdant, who had taken all of the clothes out of her wardrobe and folded them in piles on the bed and was now straightening them nervously. Nashira ran up and dropped the box on the foot of the bed. 

“I’d better put my books in the bottom, I think,” she said, and turned to her desk to start moving them. 

Verdant hurried around the bottom of the bed to preempt her. “Allow me, Nashira.”

Nashira nodded and stepped back to watch as Verdant quickly emptied the entire contents of her desk into the box. She tucked all of the clothes in on top of the books, and paused uncertainly when she ran out of them. “Is that everything?”

Nashira nodded. “Yeah. That’s everything except the stuff in my backpack.”

Verdant looked a little stricken, but she managed not to make any comments about the vaults upon vaults and properties upon properties that Nashira owned. Before they could stand around awkwardly any longer, Eva stuck her head through the door.

“All done packing?” Nashira nodded. “Very good! All the papers have been squared away, so you two can go off back home now.”

Nashira went to pick up the box of her things, but Verdant beat her to it. She felt a little guilty, but also grateful, because it was probably pretty heavy with all of those books in it.

Nashira followed Eva back out of the home. When they reached the door, Miss Brenna was standing by it again, waiting to make sure all of the girls who left were accounted for. Nashira paused and ran over to hug her impulsively. “Bye, Miss Brenna. Thanks for letting me go to the library all the time.”

Miss Brenna smiled down at her, looking a little sad. “You’re welcome, Nashira. I hope you’re very happy with Emerald.”

Nashira smiled back. “I will be. I’ve got my own bedroom now! With a bookshelf!” Which was understating things a bit, but she thought it might make Miss Brenna happy.

Miss Brenna gave her a squeeze, then let go. “Well, goodbye.”

Nashira nodded and turned back to hurry after Eva and Verdant, who were waiting on the steps. “Bye.”

“Was she good to you, M- Nashira?” Verdant asked as they walked down the drive.

“We’re probably far enough away that they won’t hear you call me Mademoiselle,” Nashira said. “And yes, she was always very nice. She was the first one who said I should be allowed to go to the library by myself, since I never got into trouble. That I could be trusted.”

“Then I am glad Mademoiselle Nashira was in her care, even if she deserved better. There are worse things.” She looked dark for a moment. “They say terrible things of how Seigneur Potter was raised, by a muggle aunt and uncle who made him sleep in a cupboard and never fed him.”

“That’s awful! Wait - Potter? Harry Potter?”

“Oui, Mademoiselle Nashira. The Boy-Who-Lived. You have heard of him?”

Nashirs shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that. But I met a kid who’s going to be in my year at Hogwarts at the Magical Menagerie, Teddy, and they introduced me to their godfather, and said his name was Harry Potter. He was very nice.”

“I am sure it was Maîtresse Dorea’s blood in him telling,” Verdant said serenely. “She never lost her good heart or good humour, no matter the provocation.”

“Maîtresse Dorea? Was she a Black?”

“Oui, Mademoiselle Nashira. She was your grandmother Walburga’s aunt, your great-great-aunt.”

“And Mr. Potter is related to her?”

“Her grandson.”

“So I do have living family!” She frowned. “Why wasn’t he on the family tree Lagrak made for me?”

“Because it traced only up, not down,” said Mildy. Nashira started. She hadn’t noticed that they’d gotten back to the alley. “Lord Potter is two generations down from a Black.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me I had living relatives? Eva asked me and I said I didn’t have any!”

Mildy shrugged. “He is only a distant cousin. Half the wizarding world is descended from Blacks in one way or another. Even the Weasleys have Black blood. They are nearly as closely related as Lord Potter - Miss Cedrella was Miss Dorea’s cousin, and she married Septimus Weasley and had children and grandchildren and probably great-grandchildren by now.”

“So I have _lots_ of relatives.”

“Very distant ones, on the Black side, but yes.”

Nashira glared at Mildy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Eva cleared her throat. “I think my services are no longer required. It was good to meet you, Heir Shafiq-Black. Gringotts will debit your accounts my fee. I wish you much joy of your new homes.” She flicked her wand at Verdant to remove the illusion, then at Nashira’s purse, then bowed a little and disappeared with a crack.

Nashira blushed. She had forgotten that Eva was standing there. “I suppose we’d better get home. And then you can tell me about all the people you forgot to mention I was related to.”

“I can bring a copy of the family tapestry from Bijou,” Verdant said helpfully. “Many of the out-crossings’ names are burned off - Maîtresse Cedrella, for instance, was disowned for marrying Septimus Weasley - but it shows many of the relations.”

“I would like that, thank you,” said Nashira firmly, then looked at Mildy. “Well?”

Mildy’s mouth was set in a disapproving line, but she snapped her fingers, and the alley disappeared with a twisting sensation.

  



	6. Letters and Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nashira is home at Villa Shafiq for good now, and can learn some more about her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while! I've been fighting with how to get this scene to STOP. But I think I've got everything decently wrangled for more now. How long the next chapter will be, I haven't the faintest idea. Consistency on that front does not seem to be my strong point.

The world reformed around them in the shape of Nashira’s bedroom, where she was immediately distracted by the kitten pouncing on her foot.

“Eep! Oh, it’s you,” she said to the kitten, and picked it up to pet it. “Which is a terrible greeting. I really need to name you. Maybe I should do that before I go look at family trees.”

“She was missing you terribly,” Mildy said primly. 

Nashira set the kitten on her shoulder and walked over to sit on the foot of the bed. “I’ll unpack the books I bought, and then I’ll have the one of star names and I can pick what to name you.” She reached into her purse, thinking of the shrunken packages of books, and pulled them both out, one at a time. She looked at them, then shrugged - she couldn’t tell them apart - and pulled open the twine on the first one. Unwrapped, it proved to be the set of standard textbooks. She left it and unwrapped the other package, which expanded into the pile of other books she had bought, and fished out the book of star names. 

She opened it at random in the middle and scanned down the page. “Mabsuthat,” she read aloud. “Arabic for the outstretched (paw). See also Alsciaukat, 31 Lyncis.”

The kitten toppled off of her shoulder onto the book and laid there upside down, batting at her fingers. Nashira laughed. “Do you like it, then?”

The kitten miaoued firmly and licked Nashira’s finger.

“Me too. Mabsuthat. I could call you Mab for short.”

Mabsuthat rolled off of the book and into Nashira’s lap, where she curled up and started purring.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Mildy cleared her throat. She still looked disapproving, but her eyes had softened. “Verdant has arrived in the entrance hall. If Miss Nashira will come with Mildy, Mildy will take her to meet Verdant in the family parlor with the Shafiq family tapestry.” She glanced down at Mabsuthat. “Miss Mabsuthat may come as well.”

Nashira closed the book and returned it to its pile on the bed, then stood up, scooping up Mabsuthat with one hand before she could roll out of her lap. Mabsuthat squeaked in displeasure, but settled down when Nashira set her on her shoulder, which seemed to be her favorite position. 

Mildy snapped her fingers, and the world twisted away and became the family parlor, where Verdant was waiting with a large roll of fabric. She bowed to Nashira, then tossed the tapestry into the air and snapped her fingers. It spread out and hung itself neatly on nothing, clearly visible. Nashira could see what Mildy had meant about names being burned off, now. There were several blackened places. 

There at the bottom was her own name, beneath her father’s, branching down from a golden line between Regulus and Yasmin, both with death dates neatly recorded. Next to Regulus was a blackened place, and above him Walburga and Orion. Walburga had two siblings, Alphard and Cygnus. Cygnus was married to Druella Rosier and had three children, one of whom was burned off. Bellatrix Black had no children with her husband Rodolphus Lestrange, but Narcissa Black’s marriage to Lucius Malfoy extended down to Draco Malfoy, who had a gold line tying him to Harry Potter.

“Mr. Potter’s husband is my cousin!” she exclaimed. “Amal said his husband’s name was Draco.” She turned to look at Mildy. “I _met_ Mr. Potter. He was very nice. Why didn’t you tell me he was my cousin and married to my cousin?”

Mildy sighed. “Teddy Lupin is your cousin as well,” she said grudgingly. “They are Andromeda Tonks’s grandchild. She is the burned name between Bellatrix and Narcissa.”

Nashira glared at Mildy. “My very first wizarding friend and they’re my cousin and you didn’t _tell_ me?” She folded her arms over her chest. “Bessy!”

Bessy appeared nearby with a pop. “Yes, Miss Nashira?”

“Bessy, how do wizards contact each other?”

“They floo or they send owls, Miss Nashira.”

“Do we have any owls?”

“No, Miss Nashira. The owls died of old age, and we have not replaced them since there was no one here to use them.”

Nashira frowned. “I want to send a letter to Teddy. Do I need to go buy an owl?”

Verdant cut in. “I can bring one to them, Mademoiselle Nashira. They live with Maîtresse Andromeda, and while she was disowned, we still know where she is.”

Nashira smiled at her. “Thank you, Verdant.”

“Bessy will bring you parchment and a quill,” Bessy said, and vanished with another pop. 

Mildy looked unhappy. “Miss Nashira-”

“What, Mildy? I’ve wanted a family my entire _life_! I’m not going to not contact my living relatives!”

Mildy sighed. “Mildy was just wishing the elves could be having Miss Nashira to themselves for a while, before she vanishes off to school. We is being alone here for so long. Miss Nashira would have found out that Teddy was her cousin eventually.” She looked at the floor. “Mildy did not want Miss Nashira to leave and live with humans, and leave the elves alone again. It is not the same, being bound to a house with no one in it. We were fading.”

Nashira bit her lip. “I don’t want to leave, Mildy. I love my mother’s room, and I want to live in it. I want to get to know all my houses - the Black ones too! If it’s hard on the Shafiq elves, it must be hard on the Black elves as well. But I’ve gone all my life without family, and if I have some, I want to know them.”

Mildy was cut off from replying with anything else by Bessy popping back into the room with a lap desk, parchment, and a huge emerald green quill. “Here is parchment and quill, Miss Nashira.”

“Thank you, Bessy,” Nashira said, and firmly settled the desk on her lap. She looked somewhat dubiously at the quill, but she dipped it into the inkwell set into the desk surface and started trying to write. It left a lot of blots, and it was scratchy and strange to write with, but she managed to legibly inscribe a message:

  


Teddy,

This is Nashira. We met in Magical Menagerie. I just found out I’m your cousin, and your godfather’s cousin, and his husband’s cousin. I want to talk to you again. Can you tell your godfather and come visit me or write me? Bessy says the floo address is Villa Shafiq and she’ll make sure it’s open. I’ve never had any relatives before. I’m sorry this is such a mess, this is the first time I’ve ever used a quill.

Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black

  


She blew on the paper to dry it, spreading some of the ink blots even worse, then handed it to Verdant. “Please take this to Teddy.”

Verdant took it and nodded. “Of course, Mademoiselle Nashira. His grand-mère, Maîtresse Andromeda, may wish to meet you as well.”

“If you are inviting visitors through the floo,” Mildy said disapprovingly, “You may wish to be near it. It does not come out in the family parlor.”

Nashira nodded and put the lap desk aside and stood up. Mabsuthat wobbled on her shoulder, digging in her claws, and miaoued disapprovingly. Nashira put up a hand to steady her and petted her soothingly. “It’s all right, Mabsuthat. Mildy, will you take us to the floo, or do I need to ask Bessy?”

Mildy looked stricken. “Of course Mildy will do as Miss Nashira asks.” She snapped her fingers, and the family parlor twisted away to be replaced by a room tiled in the same style as the entrance hall. 

Nashira looked around. “Why isn’t there a door?”

“For security, Miss Nashira. If anyone the family does not wish to be here gains access to the floo, they can progress no further into the house than this. Any fireplace may be used to exit, of course, but only this one comes in from outside. The wards forbid anyone but family to apparate within the house, so without the willing aid of a house-elf or family member, no one can leave this room.

Nashira eyed the intricately painted tiles. “It’s like standing in a box. You’ll apparate us out to the family parlor as soon as someone comes, won’t you Mildy?”

“Of course, Miss Nashira. I would not leave you here.”

Verdant appeared next to them and handed Nashira a piece of parchment. Nashira opened it to see writing much neater than hers.

  


Cousin Nashira,

Cousins! I’ve got loads of cousins, but they’re all too little to be much fun, except Victoire. I told Gran, and she went white and demanded to see your note, it was pretty funny. Usually I’m the only one that turns colors. Anyway, she flooed Uncle Harry, and he said he and Uncle Draco weren’t busy, so all four of us are coming over. Gran said something about making sure you were taken care of. And they all said I should send a letter back with the house elf to make sure you knew we were coming. I’m bringing my kitten, so she can meet yours. Did you name her yet?

See you soon,

Teddy Lupin-Tonks

  


Nashira grinned. “Teddy’s coming, and so are their gran and Mr. Potter and, um, Mr. Potter’s husband Draco.” Verdant looked pleased with herself. 

Mildy sighed. “Bessy!”

Bessy popped into the room. “Yes, Mildy?”

“Since you is making yourself a fixture around Miss Nashira, you can be making yourself useful and make sure the larger parlor is ready for guests, and be telling Gerty to get a tea service ready for five.”

Bessy squeaked in excitement. “Five! Guests!” She popped back out again before Mildy could say anything else.

“The larger parlor?” Nashira asked. 

Mildy nodded. “There isn’t being seating for five in the small family parlor and having everyone able to see each other. We can bring anything from the small family parlor to the larger parlor if Miss Nashira is wanting it.”

Nashira was saved from having to respond by the fire behind her flaring green. Teddy spun out of it and stumbled into a wall, then shook themselves cheerfully, leaving a small pile of soot on the floor.

“Nashira! Gran said we should wait longer, but I said that was plenty of time to read my letter, and it was, wasn’t it?”

Nashira grinned and nodded. “Plenty! Mildy was just worrying about being ready for guests.”

The fire flared again, and Mr. Potter stumbled out of it almost as ungracefully as Teddy had, though he didn’t run into a wall. He shook himself as well. “You would think, after being in the wizarding world for two thirds of my life, I would learn how to floo gracefully,” he said wryly. “Hello, Nashira. I hear we’re cousins.”

Nashira nodded, suddenly torn between excitement and terror. Teddy was one thing, but grown-ups were another. What if Mildy was right and they didn’t want to let her live here in her mother’s room? “Hi, Mr. Potter.”

He shook his head as the fire flared green behind him again. “Now that we know we’re related, I’m afraid I must insist you call me Harry.” He winked. “Being called Mr. Potter makes me feel ancient.”

“Heaven forbid you be made to feel like an adult,” the tall blond man who had just stepped out of the floo behind Harry said dryly. “Er, hello. I presume you’re Nashira. I’m Draco Malfoy. Once Andromeda arrives, please explain how we’re cousins.” He glanced at the tiled walls as the floo flared behind him again. “Because I confess myself baffled as to which of my relatives managed to spawn without me noticing - and with a Shafiq, no less. I thought that family was extinct, or gone to a cadet branch on the continent, but here we are.”

“I know Lucius was too incompetent to teach you manners,” the grey-haired woman who had stepped out of the floo said irritably, “But I had thought that Harry had at least rubbed off on you enough that you might not be so constantly rude, or I would have insisted on coming through before you.” She turned to Nashira. “Hello, dear. Please don’t mind Draco. You must be Nashira. I’m Andromeda Tonks, Teddy’s grandmother. They spent the rest of the day after he got home from Diagon Alley telling me about how their kitten was going to be friends with yours.” She held up a basket over her arm. “I was nominated to bring the kitten through, because Teddy was afraid they would fall on it.”

“I ran into the wall!” Teddy announced cheerfully.

“As graceful as your mother ever was,” Andromeda sighed, but she was smiling.

“Um,” said Nashira. “Mildy told Bessy to make sure the larger parlor was ready, so I guess she’ll take us there? I haven’t been in it before. This is… I guess this is only the fourth room of this house I’ve been in so far. Verdant can bring the Black family tapestry she brought a copy of from Bijou, and you can see how I’m related?”

“Oh, is that which house she’s from? I did wonder,” said Andromeda. “I didn’t think any of the English Black elves were still willing to recognize my blood.”

“Mildy said the French are better suited to improprieties,” Nashira said.

Mildy squeaked, then blurted out, “Mildy will be taking Miss Nashira and her guests to the parlor now!” She snapped her fingers and the floo room twisted away and was replaced by a rather grand room draped in copper silk, with a cluster of turquoise velvet chairs facing each other around an ebony table.

Andromeda and Draco stood steady easily, but Harry stumbled and Teddy fell over a chair. 

Nashira looked around. Verdant had been brought with them as well. “Verdant, will you bring the tapestry so I can show them?”

Verdant nodded. “Of course, Mademoiselle Nashira.” She vanished with a pop. 

Nashira made her way over to a chair next to the one Teddy had fallen on and sat down. She looked up at the adults nervously. “Um, please have a seat?”

Harry dropped without ceremony into the chair next to Teddy’s. Draco sat down next to him, looking effortlessly elegant. Andromeda sat down in the remaining chair.

Teddy peered around at the room. “This is fancy. Like Malfoy Manor, but friendlier.” Draco glared at the back of their head, but Teddy ignored him. “And more comfortable. The chairs in Malfoy Manor are all hard and awful.”

“Those chairs are worth more than everything you own,” Draco said.

“And Teddy’s right, they’re uncomfortable,” Harry said, grinning at Draco. “Wizards are perfectly capable of making things comfortable, your family just doesn’t believe it’s proper to be comfortable.”

“It isn’t proper for guests to be comfortable,” Draco corrected. “The private family rooms are perfectly comfortable.”

“How hospitable of you.”

“Hospitality is for blood traitors and mu- muggleborns,” Draco drawled, seeming to be imitating someone.

Andromeda coughed. “Perhaps you two could argue about furniture another time.”

“I’m sure we will,” Harry said cheerfully. “But you’re right, we’re being dreadfully rude to our hostess. My apologies, Nashira. I am Harry James Potter, this is my husband Draco Lucius Malfoy, my godchild Theodorea Lupin-Tonks, and their grandmother Andromeda Tonks. Your letter to Teddy said your full name, but if you could tell us again so we’re all sure we read it right, I’d appreciate it.”

“Nashira Yasmin Shafiq Black.”

“You did say Yasmin,” Andromeda said. “But she died thirty years ago, and you’re Teddy’s age.” She peered at Nashira sharply. “Provided that is your real age and appearance.”

Nashira’s eyes widened. “If it isn’t, it would be news to me as well. I’ve always looked like this. Well, except smaller, when I was younger, I mean. I’m eleven. I was found in a hospital on May second, 1998.”

Harry’s eyes sharpened and he leaned forward. “May second, you say?”

Nashira nodded. “Um, Lagrak said that my parents must have used old magic and put me outside of time until - he said the fall of Voldemort? I don’t know who that is. I haven’t had a chance to read any of the books I bought in Diagon Alley yet, things keep _happening_.” To her horror, her voice became somewhat plaintive and whiny on the last words.

Luckily, she was interrupted by Verdant clearing her throat. “Mademoiselle Nashira, I have the tapestry, if you wish to show them.”

Nashira nodded in relief. “Um, bring it over where everyone can see it, please.”

Verdant walked over and tossed the tapestry into the air again, where it hung itself on nothing. She pointed to Regulus’s name at the bottom. “See, Seigneur Potter, Seigneur Malfoy, Maîtresse Andromeda. Maître Regulus was married to Maîtresse Yasmin, and Nashira is their daughter.”

“This says she was born in 1979,” Andromeda pointed out. 

“That’s what I said. I told Lagrak it had to be a mistake when he used my blood to make a family tree to confirm me as heir. He said I was untraceable by magic for twenty years, until the fall of Voldemort, whoever that is, and something about a war.” She paused. “The letters my parents left me in my mother’s trunk in my trust vault mentioned a war too.”

Harry looked rueful. “I suppose you’re as clueless about the war as I was when I got my letter. My parents died in the war in 1981, a few years after yours. Voldemort was the one who started the war, a dark wizard originally named Tom Riddle who tried to take over Britain. If you were put outside of time somehow - I’ll have to ask Hermione to look into how they could have done that - and came back on May second of 1998, then you returned as soon as Voldemort died for good. That was the day I killed him.” He looked bleak and far away, and Draco reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Harry shook himself and flashed a smile at his husband, then turned back to Nashira, back in the present again. “May I see the Heir rings, Nashira?”

She nodded and held out her hand. Harry examined the rings, then touched the Black ring with one finger. His eyes unfocused for a moment, then he drew back his hand. “Andromeda, Draco, you can check yourselves as well if you like, but I’m sure that’s the true Black Heir ring.” He angled his own right hand towards her. “I have the Potter Head ring, as you can see. I’m familiar enough with it to recognize another, and I have enough Black blood for that ring to respond to me. The Shafiq ring looks equally genuine, but I don’t have the blood to test it.”

“No one does,” Andromeda said quietly. “It was believed to be a fallen house, though no one was sure what happened to the estate. People assumed it went to an unknown cadet line on the continent. If the goblins checked her heritage and gave her the rings, they must be right. They would never lie about something as significant as the Heir to two of the wealthiest houses in Britain, and the rings wouldn’t allow it, besides. It’s her age I’m unsure if I believe. Her heritage makes sense, but she should be over thirty.” She turned to Nashira. “Before I retired, I was a Healer. I know charms we use to check age on unconscious or amnesiac patients. Will you let me use one on you?”

Nashira threw a nervous glance at Verdant and Mildy. “Is that something possible?”

Verdant nodded. “Oui, Mademoiselle Nashira. And Maîtresse Andromeda was truly a Healer. If any of these people harm you, they will regret it. We are in the heart of the Shafiq wards. I could not so much as prick you with a needle without consequences.”

“My gran wouldn’t curse you,” Teddy said, affronted. “She’s my _gran_.” 

“Mademoiselle Nashira does not know her as you do,” Verdant said. “But it will be all right, regardless.”

Nashira nodded, comforted that the intangible presence of her family kept her safe. “All right.” She turned back to Andromeda. “Go ahead.”

Andromeda pulled a wand out of her robes and flicked it in the air towards Nashira in a complicated pattern, muttering something. The air lit up around her in a golden glow, causing Mabsuthat to squeak in surprise and topple into Nashira’s lap, and numbers appeared around all of her joints. They meant nothing to Nashira, but Andromeda nodded sharply. “Growth plates at the right stage for an eleven year old, and no influence of Shrinking Solution or any other anti-aging potion or charm, or even Polyjuice. She is, as she seems, an ordinary eleven year old girl.”

Draco relaxed slightly, but Teddy looked annoyed. “Of course she is.”

Draco raised an eyebrow at them. “There’s no one in the world who would want to lure the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and defeater of the Dark Lord,” Harry grimaced at his husband’s description, “away into a secret location he’s never heard of under false pretenses?”

“Somebody, sure, but we met Nashira at Magical Menagerie. I ran into her. She’s not a secret Death Eater.” Teddy glared at everyone indiscriminately. “She’s my cousin and she wrote me a letter because she wanted to meet her family and you’re all treating her like she’s a criminal. You’re not even aurors.”

Draco looked tolerantly amused, but Harry sighed. “I’m sorry, Teddy, Nashira, but we lived through a war. One of my friends had a _pet_ that turned out to be a Death Eater in disguise. We can’t just take things at face value after living through that.”

“Would it help if you talked to Lagrak?” Nashira asked uncertainly. “I think he knows more about why I’m this age than I do. I mean, he told me things, but I didn’t really understand it. I didn’t even know I was a witch until I got my Hogwarts letter two days ago. And I didn’t know my parents’ names until Lagrak made the family tree to confirm my heritage.”

Teddy surged across the gap between their chairs and hugged Nashira. “My parents died in the war too, but my gran raised me, so at least I knew who they _were_.” They turned and glared at Harry. “You’re an orphan too, Uncle Harry. Don’t be mean.”

Harry smiled sadly. “That’s true. I was raised by an aunt and uncle, but they... didn’t care for magic. Or my parents. Or me. I hope your time in the orphanage wasn’t too bad.”

Nashira shrugged. “The other girls didn’t like me much, but that was mostly because I wasn’t white and I liked reading instead of sneaking out and smoking cigarettes.”

Harry blinked. “Cigarettes? Eleven year olds?”

Nashira nodded. “And spray painting things, and drinking. Not all of the girls, but a lot of them.”

“Dudley seems positively a model student, in retrospect,” he murmured, then shook his head. “Nevermind. So you’re not missing any friends?”

Nashira shook her head. “I never really had any. The other kids didn’t want to be associated with me. Most of the bullies avoided me, after the time Poppy-Mae pushed me on picture day and I accidentally static shocked her and it made her hair frizz up for hours, but that still didn’t make me safe to associate with for anyone else. And they didn’t want to get shocked or whatever, either.” Mabsuthat licked her fingers, and she laughed, distracted. “Mabs, that tickles!”

“You named her!” said Teddy, bouncing in their seat. “Mabs?”

“Mabsuthat,” Nashira said. “Mab or Mabs for short. It’s an Arabic star name, like my name is, so she can be part of both of my families too.” She looked down and blushed, realizing that the adults were listening to her explanation with interest.

Teddy jumped up and ran over to grab the basket with their cat from Andromeda and brought it back to their seat. They opened it and lifted out a fluffy calico kitten. “This is my kitten. I named her Faithful, after the cat in some books I read.”

Nashira perked up. “After Alanna’s cat?”

Teddy nodded and grinned at her. “You’ve read them!”

Faithful woke up and wriggled her way out of Teddy’s hands, then sat down to groom her fur back into order. Mabsuthat peered at her, fascinated, and made a daring leap across to Teddy’s chair from Nashira’s so she could sniff the other cat. Nashira giggled as Faithful tapped Mabsuthat on the nose with a paw warningly when she got too invested in sniffing, and Mabsuthat responded by biting Faithful’s tail. The two kittens rolled into a pile of wrestling fur, with both Teddy and Nashira watching entranced.

After a bit, Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. “So are you staying here now, Nashira?”

She looked up at him and nodded. “I’d never had my own bedroom before. I haven’t gotten a chance to sleep there yet, I had to go back to the Home last night, but Lagrak got me a solicitor this morning that sorted things out so I don’t have to go back anymore but I won’t be reported as a missing person or anything.”

Draco looked interested. “Who was the solicitor?”

“Um, Eva Shale? He said she was from Crusher & Rock or something.”

Draco nodded. “Stone & Crusher. A good firm. She must be their apprentice.”

Harry looked unsure what to say, but Andromeda set her jaw. “You can’t possibly live here all by yourself.”

“I’m not by myself,” Nashira protested, alarmed. Maybe Mildy was right. “I have more house elves than I know what to do with! I haven’t even learned all of their names yet!”

Andromeda shook her head. “They’re not people, it’s not the same.”

Harry grimaced, looking apologetic, but Draco nodded. “House elves aren’t enough to raise a child.”

“It’s only until school starts,” Nashira pointed out desperately. She wanted to argue about house elves being people, but it didn’t seem likely she’d get much traction on that line. “I’ve got nine houses and a dozen house elves and I want to _see_ them, and be able to sleep in the huge soft bed with the quilt my mother made on it.” She bit her lip and tried adding another tactic. “And Mildy said the Shafiq elves were fading with the family gone. I’m already going to be gone all year at Hogwarts, they should get to have me here when I can be. I don’t want them to suffer. They’ve been waiting for me for thirty _years_.”

Andromeda looked mulish, but Draco put a hand on her arm. “We can come and visit you and make sure you’re doing well, yes?” He asked. Nashira nodded. “And you can go and visit Teddy sometimes. Perhaps sometimes one of us could stay the night here, and Teddy could sleep over here with you.”

Nashira nodded enthusiastically. She wanted to explore the house, and it would be fun to have someone else to do it with. The house elves would probably happily go with her, but even Bessy and Verdant were a little too subservient for Nashira’s real comfort as friends.

“Please, I-” she looked down at her lap, and continued quietly, “My mother’s things are here. I want to get to know her. I want to get to know my living family too, but if you’re going to try to keep me away from my history, I’ll ask Mildy to help me set the wards to lock you out. I’ve never owned more than two or three backpacks worth of things before. And I didn’t even know my parents’ _names_.”

Andromeda still looked displeased, but Harry pre-empted her, something soft in his face. “Of course, Nashira.” He looked challengingly over at Andromeda. “If I had known about Potter Manor when I was eleven and living with the Dursleys, or even the ruins of the cottage in Godric’s Hollow, you couldn’t’ve pried me out with a crowbar. I know what it’s like to know nothing about your parents. Teddy has grown up knowing about theirs, but Nashira and I didn’t.”

Andromeda sighed. “It just doesn’t seem right, a little girl all alone.”

“I’m probably better supervised that I was at the Home,” Nashira said. “I’ve got house elves watching me all the time, and there are a lot more of them than there are of me. Is of me. There weren’t nearly as many adults at the Home as there were girls. And I can call the house elves to me at any time. If I was still at the Home, I’d be spending all day every day alone at the library.”

Andromeda’s mouth was pursed in disapproval, but she sighed resignedly. “At least one night a week at my house with Teddy.” Where I can keep an eye on you, went unspoken.

Nashira nodded happily. “All right!” She looked back at Harry. “Um, do you want to talk to Lagrak about my age? I think he was just guessing.”

Harry shook his head. “Not right now. I believe you, and I’ll ask Hermione to look into it. If anyone can find the information, she can. Though it might help if she had access to the libraries that your parents did. Would you be willing to let her in here and into Grimmauld Place, if I came with her? She’s been one of my closest friends all my life. She’s muggleborn.”

“What does muggleborn mean?” Nashira asked. “Marcia Malkin in Diagon Alley thought I was, but I don’t know what it is.”

Draco stared at her in bafflement, like she’d just said she didn’t know what a car or a book or a tree was. Andromeda spoke up this time. “It’s someone who doesn’t have a wizarding parent at all. Half-bloods have one wizarding parent and one muggle or muggleborn parent. Muggleborns have two muggle parents. Purebloods have entirely wizarding ancestry. You are a pureblood, as am I, and Draco. I married a muggleborn, so my daughter was a half-blood, and Teddy is as well. Harry’s father also married a muggleborn, so he’s a half-blood too.”

“Why does anyone care?” Nashira said, bemused.

Draco choked on a snort of laughter. “Because it gives people something to feel superior about, I suppose. Merlin knows I felt like I’d been betrayed when I went to Hogwarts with an impeccable bloodline and was immediately outdone in all my classes by a bushy-haired muggleborn witch. I thought I had a right to be the best, and she went and was better.”

“Someone like you or I, who grew up with muggles, can be called muggle-raised regardless of our blood status,” Harry contributed. “Teddy is a half-blood, but they were wizarding-raised, which is more of a notable difference, to my mind. Teddy wasn’t surprised when they got a Hogwarts letter, they’d been waiting for it all their life, but you had as little idea what to make of yours as I did of mine, I suspect.”

Nashira nodded. “I still don’t understand why it’s called Hogwarts. It’s an awful sounding name. Lagrak said wizards are bad at naming things.”

“Dumbledore said once that there was a kind of lily called Hogwarts, but I have no idea if that’s what they named it after or not,” Harry said. “It’s a thousand years old, so the founders aren’t exactly around to ask.”

Nashira’s eyes widened. “A _thousand_ years old? That’s older than- than- that’s older than the _Magna Carta_!” She suddenly desperately wanted to get a look at her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ , while also thinking that it couldn’t possibly be _nearly_ long enough a book to cover a history that long.

Harry laughed. “I think you’ll like Hermione. That sounds exactly like the kind of comparison she would make.”

“She doesn’t need to be friends with your friends,” Teddy said sullenly. “She’s _my_ friend, and she’s my age. None of my other cousins are as old as me. Your friends are old, they can be friends with other old people.”

“So you don’t want to be friends with Leigh Jordan anymore, then,” Harry said teasingly. 

Teddy turned from sulky to affronted. “Leigh’s got _tarantulas_! Of course I do!”

“Even though she’s terribly old? Older than me and Hermione, even.”

Teddy glared at him. “It’s different.”

Harry reached over and ruffled their hair affectionately. “Nashira can have more friends than just you, Teddy. I hope both of you will make lots of friends at Hogwarts. Outside of your house, too.” He glanced at Draco. “Sometimes those are the best ones.”

Teddy mimed gagging. “I’m not gonna find a _husband_ my first year.”

“We didn’t exactly find husbands our first year, either,” Draco said dryly. “As I recall, I was rude about Rhonda, and Harry proceeded to snub me enthusiastically for years following.”  
“So maybe you’ll make enemies you’ll marry later,” Harry added cheerfully. Draco rolled his eyes.

Teddy shared a baffled look with Nashira. “Grownups are weird.”

Nashira nodded in agreement, smothering a laugh.

She didn’t think she wanted to marry an enemy, however well it seemed to have worked out for her cousins. Or, for that matter, a cousin - since Harry and Draco were both her cousins on her father’s side, it stood to reason that they were each other’s cousins as well. She glanced sidelong at Teddy. They were nice, but she didn’t think she wanted to marry them. Anyway, she was only eleven. It was far too early to think about marrying anybody.

Just then, Mabsuthat rolled off of Teddy’s lap with an annoyed squeak, distracting her. She reached down and scooped up her kitten, smiling down at her. “I’m glad our cats can be friends, Teddy,” she said. “You’ll have to keep bringing her with when you come to visit me. And I guess I’ll bring Mabs when I stay over with you?” She looked uncertainly up at Andromeda, who smiled down at her.

“Of course you may, Nashira. It wouldn’t do to leave the poor thing all alone here.” She smiled wryly. “Bored young things can do a great deal of damage.”

“You didn’t damage anything while I was gone last night, did you?” Nashira asked Mabsuthat. Mabsuthat patted her nose with one paw, not giving any other answer.

Mildy cleared her throat. “Mildy and Bessy was watching Miss Mabsuthat all night, and made sure that she was not hurting any of Miss Nashira or Mistress Yasmin’s things.” Mildy glanced down at the kitten. “Miss Mabsuthat had much to say about that lack of Miss Nashira, but she only voiced her feelings.”

“A familiar’s anger is a thing to fear,” Harry said with a chuckle. “If I ignore Hedwig more than she thinks is proper, she’ll make her displeasure known.”

Draco sniffed. “The Malfoys don’t buy owls so ill-bred as to make an uncouth mess,” he said, looking haughty.

Harry laughed outright. “I must have hallucinated the time that Zephyr vomited owl pellets into your new Italian dragonhide boots because he was angry you hadn’t given him any sausage, then.”

Draco glared at him, but the haughty facade cracked a bit. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You shrieked like a five year old when you put your foot in it,” Harry said reminiscently. Draco dropped the fancy manners altogether to shove Harry, who made a great show of falling out of his chair and looking woebegone. “Abuse, I’m telling you. Never marry an aristocrat.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Like you didn’t tackle me off my broom yesterday in the back garden.”

Harry laughed and hauled himself back up into his chair. “Right into the koi pond,” he said happily. “You got pond weed in your hair and everything.”

“So did you.”

“Yes, but mine’s black, so it isn’t obvious. Yours turned green.”

“I’ll turn your hair green, you-”

Andromeda cleared her throat, looking amused. “Boys. We are guests.”

Harry pocketed his wand, looking sheepish. “Right. Sorry, Nashira.”

Draco contrived to look saintly, but when Harry was looking away, he flicked his sleeve at him and Harry’s hair turned bright green. Teddy and Nashira smothered laughter, Nashira burying her face in Mabsuthat. Andromeda rolled her eyes, clearly entirely used to this.

Nashira wasn’t, but everyone seemed to like each other so much, even when they were teasing. She looked over at Teddy, to find that they had turned their hair a rather sickly green as well, as well as long, seemingly trying to imitate Draco’s style as it would have been with the pond weed in it. She giggled.

“Is it just your hair you can change?” She asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, I hope that isn’t rude-”

Teddy shook their head cheerfully. “Not a bit rude! I’m a Metamorphmagus. My mum was too. I can turn into anything I like.” They shifted their face rapidly, becoming first Andromeda, then Harry, then Draco with the pond weed again, then a slightly odd impression of Faithful. Then they reverted their face to how it had been when Nashira had first seen them and made all their hair turn bright purple and stand on end.

“Wow,” Nashira breathed. “Is that common, being a- Metamorphmagus?”

Andromeda shook her head. “Teddy and Nymphadora are the only two I’ve ever met. It’s quite rare, though it runs in our family when it does pop up.”

“That was Teddy’s mother’s name? Nymphadora?” Andromeda nodded.

“Not that she’d tell you that,” Harry said. “She loathed it. Insisted everyone call her Tonks.”

Andromeda glared at him half-heartedly. “It’s a perfectly nice name.”

“I’m not arguing that, but it didn’t suit Tonks.”

“Nymphadora and Theodorea are in a very exclusive club, along with my mother Narcissa,” Draco drawled. “Blacks who weren’t given star names. Mother says her sisters used to tease her about it terribly.” He shot a sidelong glance at Andromeda, who rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I admit it, though Bella was far worse. As was Sirius.”

Nashira hugged Mabsuthat. “Mine’s an Arabic star name.”

Andromeda smiled at her. “Yes, it is. You’ve got both the Shafiq and the Black naming traditions. The Shafiq family is matrilineal, and the Head always passes her first name down to her Heir’s middle name.”

Nashira nodded. “I thought so - the plate on my mother’s bedroom door says Yasmin Amani, and Mildy said her mother’s name was Amani, and my middle name is Yasmin.” She smiled shyly and looked down at the floor. “It’s nice to know I’m a part of something.”

“You don’t have to worry about no one caring about you, Nashira,” Harry said, his voice soft. “You’re family, and we won’t abandon you, or- treat you badly.” She looked up to see a bitter expression on his face, but he shook his head and smiled at her when he saw her looking.

“You lived with family that didn’t treat you well?” Nashira asked uncertainly.

“Horrible muggles,” Draco muttered. “Honestly, if you’d let me at them-”

Harry smacked him casually on the arm. “No muggle-baiting. Not even the Dursleys. They can be miserable all by themselves in their horrible little world for the rest of their horrible little lives.” He turned back to Nashira. “Yes. My aunt and uncle had a son of their own, and they resented the very idea that I might take anything away from him, so they took everything they could away from me. Aunt Petunia - I think she envied my mother being a witch when she wasn’t. They wanted nothing more to be normal, and I wasn’t.” He shrugged. “It was a long time ago, and I’m wildly rich now, but I remember what it was like not to have a bedroom.” He smiled at her sadly. “Do you want to show us your mother’s room?”

Nashira brightened and nodded. “I still haven’t unpacked. She left me her trunk, it’s got four compartments, and one of them is a greenhouse my father set up for her full of jasmine flowers. And it’s the biggest bedroom I’ve ever _heard_ of.” She turned to Teddy. “The bathtub is like a swimming pool. Do you know how to swim?”

Teddy nodded cheerfully. “I learned in the pond at the Burrow.”

“What’s the Burrow?”

“It’s grandma Molly’s house.” They paused. “Not that she’s really my grandma, it’s just she insists I call her that because I’m like her grandchild too, and she’s Aunt Fred and Aunt George and Aunt Ginny and Aunt Rhonda and Aunt Priscilla and Aunt Wills and Aunt Charlie’s mum, so she’s Victoire’s grandma, and all the little cousins, and she says Uncle Harry’s like her son, so she’s basically my second grandmother.”

Nashira nodded, eyes wide. “That’s a lot of aunts.”

Harry laughed. “It is, rather. Molly has seven daughters. The Weasley family have always had girls for generations, apparently. And the Prewetts tend to have mostly girls as well. So Molly and Artasia had a huge brood of daughters.” 

“There are more aunts than that, too,” Teddy pointed out. “Aunt Rhonda is married to Aunt Romilda, and Aunt Ginny is married to Aunt Luna, and Aunt Fred and Aunt George are married to Aunt Angelina-”

“Wait,” Nashira interrupted. “They’re _both_ married to her? Isn’t that illegal? Bigamy or something?”

“It is for muggles,” Harry agreed. “But it’s rather common for sets of wizarding twins to both marry the same person, and Fredericka and Georgia are identical twins.”

Nashira blinked. “Weird.”

“And Aunt Priss is married to Aunt Penny, and Aunt Wills is married to Aunt Fleur,” Teddy finished, undeterred.

“You shouldn’t call her Priss,” Harry said, amused.

“Aunt Fred and Aunt George do!”

“They’re her sisters. You’re her niece or nephew, and you owe her respect.” He grinned. “Even if she is prissy.”

Teddy stuck their tongue out at Harry.

“Um,” said Nashira. “I’m maybe going to be rude again. Um. Teddy? Are you a boy or a girl?”

“Neither,” Teddy said cheerfully. “Both. I can be whichever I want, and I don’t like being stuck as one or the other. I like Teddy when I’m feeling more like a boy, and Dorea when I’m feeling more like a girl.”

Nashira blinked. “Is that a- Metamorphmagus thing?”

Andromeda nodded. “Nymphadora didn’t change quite as often as Teddy, but she did sometimes.”

“There are other people who feel the same way about genders, I think, but it isn’t quite as convenient for them,” Harry put in. “I think there are muggles who do as well, actually, who it must be even harder for. No transfiguration or glamours.” He smiled wryly. “I did some research about it when Andromeda told me it was likely to come up with my godchild.”

“You mean you asked Hermione to research it for you,” Draco said.

“I bought books myself,” Harry protested.

“And you spent a week leaving them all in a pile on the nightstand and treating them like they were going to bite you, until I wrote Hermione and told her to come help you already.”

Harry glared at him. “I did not treat them like they were going to bite me.”

Draco smirked. “Sure you didn’t, basilisk slayer.”

Harry lunged at Draco across the space between their chairs.

Andromeda cleared her throat again. “Boys. Guests.”

Harry flushed red and sat back down. “Right. Sorry, Nashira.”

Nashira giggled. “Are all married people like you two?”

Draco looked mildly horrified. “Now I’m imagining Granger and Bones in the koi pond. No, no they are not.” He sniffed at Harry snobbily. “Most people are more couth than my husband, who was unfortunate enough to be raised without proper knowledge of manners.”

“And most people don’t have a stick up their- um, back,” Harry said, glancing sheepishly at Nashira and Teddy, “Like the Malfoys do about protocol.”

Mildy cleared her throat. “Do Mistresses and Masters wish to have tea?”

Nashira’s stomach growled, and Teddy giggled. Nashira looked chagrined. “Yes, please, Mildy. I didn’t actually have breakfast before I left the Home this morning, I was in such a hurry to get back here-”

“Miss Nashira has not eaten?” Mildy broke in, horrified. “Mildy will bring food for Miss Nashira at once!” She vanished with a loud pop.

Andromeda looked amused. “At least we know she’ll be sure you take care of yourself.”

Nashira grinned wryly. “Yeah. She was horribly upset about me going back to the Home where she couldn’t look after me. I think Bessy was upset too, just... less dramatically. Bessy’s the youngest Shafiq elf, I think. She’s less fussy than Mildy.”

Andromeda nodded. “The older elves can get... set in their ways. My cousin Walburga’s elf, Kreacher, was always singularly devoted.”

Nashira made a face. “He kept going on about my blood being pure.”

“He’s still alive?” Andromeda looked surprised. “Goodness, I thought he’d died years ago.”

“He didn’t stay for very long. Bessy helped convince him to stop crowding me.”

Harry nodded understandingly. “He was very strange around Sirius during the war. I wouldn’t want him around for very long either.”

“I’m glad I have Mildy and Bessy and Verdant,” Nashira said, throwing a grateful glance at the French elf. “Mildy helped me around Diagon Alley to buy all my school supplies. I wouldn’t have had the least idea where to go to buy things without her, and I certainly wouldn’t have been able to get here.” She laughed a little. “Or been able to go back and get the robes I forgot at Madam Malkin’s after we’d gotten home.”

Mildy popped back into the room then, flanked by Bessy and Gerty, all carrying baskets or trays. Mildy left Bessy and Gerty to set up the tea service on the table for the guests, while Mildy made a beeline for Nashira.

“Mildy has brought a full breakfast for Miss Nashira, and Miss Nashira will eat,” Mildy said firmly. She set down a tray on Nashira’s lap and uncovered it, revealing a steaming bowl of porridge with a little pitcher of cream next to it, several slices of toast and an array of little pots of jam, and a bowl of sliced fruit.

“Oh, thank you Mildy! This looks wonderful.”

“Mildy was not sure what Miss Nashira prefers to eat, but Mildy remembered that Miss Nashira did not order the meat dish in Diagon Alley, so Mildy did not bring Miss Nashira meats.” She looked uncertain. “Was Mildy being right to assume?”

“Oh, yes. Maybe it’s just the food at the Home, but most of the meat I’ve tried hasn’t been very nice, so I just avoid it. I like vegetables, anyway.”

Mildy nodded. “If Miss Nashira does not wish to eat meat, we is not serving any. We is knowing many recipes without meat.”

“Do you know how to make the things I had in Diagon Alley yesterday?” Nashira asked curiously. “The daal and the palak paneer?”

“Mildy does not, but the kitchen elves may, and if they is not knowing, they can be asking the elves at another house, or the elves of other families.”

“You can do that? Just - go and talk to someone else’s elves?”

Mildy nodded. “Elves is all knowing each other. Many elf marriages is being between elves from different families.”

“Are you married?” Nashira blushed. “I’m sorry, that’s probably rude.”

“You is being Heir and acting Head of the Shafiq Family, Miss Nashira. All Shafiq elf marriages from now on must be approved by you.”

Nashira paused. “Does that mean none of you could get married for the thirty years I was missing?”

“Yes, but we was not wanting to marry then anyway. We was not knowing if Miss Nashira would ever return to us.”

Nashira grimaced. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long for me, Mildy. I wish you could have found me ten years ago, at least, so you could have known I was alive.”

“Mildy is just being glad that Miss Nashira is here now.”

“Bessy is being glad too,” Bessy said from over by the table, where she was pouring tea for Nashira’s guests.

Mildy looked down at Nashira’s tray and clucked disapprovingly. “Miss Nashira can be finding out about elves any time. Miss Nashira will be eating now.”

Nashira giggled. “All right, Mildy.” She picked up the cream and poured some into the porridge and stirred it in. Stirring revealed chopped apple mixed into the porridge, and as her stomach growled again, Nashira dug in with gusto.

The porridge was delicious, better than she’d ever tasted before. It was sweet and rich and creamy, as well as thick, and the chunks of apple were crisp and tart. The oats had a much different texture than she was used to, chewier, but she found she liked it. In very little time, she had scraped the bowl clean and moved on to the toast. She tasted all of the pots of jam. Strawberry she could identify, but the others were delicious mysteries.

“What kinds of jam are these, Mildy?” she asked. 

“Strawberry jam, apple butter, currant jelly, and blackberry preserves.”

“They’re delicious,” Nashira said. “I’d never had any but the strawberry jam before, and I’d never had strawberry jam this good.”

Mildy looked pained. “Miss Nashira will always be having the best of foods now.”

“The porridge was delicious too. Thank you, Mildy.”

Mildy bobbed her head. “Mildy is just glad Miss Nashira has been fed.” She looked Nashira up and down disapprovingly. “Miss Nashira is being too thin.”

Harry snickered. “Sorry, she just sounds like Molly. Every time she sees me, ‘oh, Harry, you’re too thin, have another six helpings of pudding’.”

“I think everyone is too thin for her,” Draco said dryly. “She’d probably try to feed up Hagrid.”

Nashira looked back up, somewhat embarrassed. She’d nearly forgotten that her guests were there while she ate. Everyone seemed to have finished with their teacups. “Um. Did you want to see my room, Teddy?”

Teddy looked up from fiddling with a teaspoon and nodded eagerly. “Yeah! This house is neat.”

Nashira nodded and looked at Bessy and Mildy. “Um, can you just show us the way through the house, instead of popping us there? I’d like to see some more of it.”

“Of course, Miss Nashira,” Mildy said and gestured to the door. “If everyone will follow Mildy this way?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It only took twelve thousand words after getting her, but Nashira finally managed to name her kitten! I like the name, how about you? I'm looking forward to having Teddy around more.


End file.
